South-field Elementary
by Spike Wristed Drummer Girl
Summary: Marge gets a job in a small, tucked-away town called South Park, so the Simpsons go to Colorado! Bart and Cartman build up an enmity stronger than the world's strongest man, while hanging around with Stan, Kyle and the other boys has turned Lisa into a bit of a tomboy... Bonus chapter/ advertisment. :D
1. Bon Voyage!

'We'll see you at Easter! Don't forget to write!'  
'Hah! Losers! We're moving to Colorado! Na-na-na-na-na-na!'  
'Homer! Don't be so rude! Aren't you upset about leaving?'  
'No.'  
Marge made an annoyed noise. Yes, she was happy to be making a fresh start, but she had made a few friends here in Springfield. Helen Lovejoy, Luanne Van Houten, and-ahem- sometimes even Edna Crabbappel. Which, inevitably, was her handful of a son's 4th grade teacher. Oh, the hell she got from her about Bart...  
'Hey, Marge. Pass the popcorn.'  
Marge looked confused. 'Why, Homie? We're not watching a movie.'  
'Yeah, but I want to throw it at Flanders...'  
Meanwhile, at the back of the family car, Bart had a handful of chewed-up gum and his trusty slingshot. He was aiming it at the back of Todd Flanders' head. 'Okay, Bart, keep a steady hand, aim... fire!' The ball of gum flew out the window, across the Simpson's lawn and into the yard of the Flanders' household. Todd Flanders let out a yelp and felt the back of his head. Bart just screamed with laughter after seeing him tear out a hank of his hair. The gum-ball was still on his head.  
Lisa looked up from her book with distaste. She'd always known Bart's infamous pranks would get to her someday; however, she was studying for her 3rd year of elementary school and the book she was reading was one of her favourites.  
'Bart, scream any louder and you'll hack up your lungs. I'm trying to study.' she said.  
' What for? We're not in Springfield Elementary anymore. This is your chance to stop burying your nose in those things-'  
'Books.'  
'-Yeah, whatever; those books and get a fresh start. Who knows, you might even become cool!' grinned Bart. Oh, her annoyed face was the milk to his cereal!  
Just as Lisa was about to retort, the car pulled away from the sidewalk and drove off. Lisa could make out the least favourite voice of hers.  
'Goodbye, Bart, Lisa! I'll never forget you! especially not you, Lisa!' called Milhouse, Bart's best friend and Lisa's not-so-secret admirer. Bart waved and Lisa did too, but only because she was being polite.  
'Oh my god! She waved at me! Everything's comin' up Mil- ayyyeeeeeeee!' Milhouse was chased down the street by Dolph, Jimbo and Kearney, the school bullies.  
'Bully-bully-bully!' they called after him.  
Homer swerved past a heap of upcoming traffic while Marge looked worriedly back at Maggie, who was fast asleep. Marge knew that moving to a completely different place could be unsettling for a young child, but the money Homer earned wasn't quite tying the knot, and so Marge looked for a job. She had eventually found one in the newspaper, but it was all the way in a small, remote town called South Park in Colorado. She broke the news to the family a few weeks back, and everyone had cried. But no one, not even Maggie, had cried louder than Homer.  
'Where am I supposed to go to drown my sorrows?' Homer had said. 'Uhh.. Homie... there's about 5 bars in South Park. You could go to one of them.' Homer had come round immediately after hearing that. In fact, he was the first person in the car the day it was time to move.  
'Well, Maggie, I hope you'll enjoy it in South Park. Maybe now I can get that new Cot-o-matic 3000 I saw in that Mothercare leaflet...'

**Sorry this chapter so short guys, I just ran out of things to include. If you want the next chapter longer, R+R!**


	2. I Want The Bigger Room!

A/N; this is the second chapter up! A BIG BIG BIG thank you to MedianParcumArcanity for being the first person to read this fic and say something! As I said, I almost gave up on this fic, but I'm glad I didn't now! Okay, so now The Simpsons have moved into their new house and starting to get settled in. well, sort of. This chapter is EXTREMELY long and a bit pointless but I just want to fill in the bits about what their house looks like so you don't get confused. Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN SOUTH PARK. NUFF SAID.

'Hurry up, Marge! I want to have first pick of the rooms!'  
'Okay, Homer, just calm down. I need to find the right key.'  
Marge was fiddling with the single solitary key in her hand. It was now very late and dark, and after much pleading Marge had agreed to get the kids a takeaway.  
But don't think you can get away from my healthy Tofu Celery Salad, thought Marge. She eventually figured out how to place the key in the lock and turned it. The door swung open.  
'Whoo- hoo!' said Homer. He raced to the stairs and ran up them, giggling like a child. 'First pick of the bedroom!' Bart and Lisa ran after him, both hoping to get the bigger room. Santa's Little Helper and Snowball VI curled into a ball and settled down.  
Marge and Maggie were the only ones to take a proper look at their surroundings. The hall was just like their old one, apart from the peeling grey paint and shabby carpet stairs. A few faded paintings hid the damp patches on the walls, but very poorly. The thing that surprised Marge however was how the dining room was bigger than the living room. The living room lead right into the dirty kitchen, orange in colour. Marge decided to get Homer to paint the rooms as soon as the kids started school. Oh dear, school...  
Marge knew what their first day would be like already. Bart would make heaps of uninfluential friends and trouble, and Lisa would hide herself in a corner, reading her book. She dreaded the evening she would come home crying because "the girls at her school called her nerd". Poor girl.  
She put Maggie on the living room floor and went out to get the luggage. As usual, she was the one doing it. She picked up Lisa's Malibu Stacey suitcase and Bart's Krusty the Clown back pack and carried them indoors. She then went out to collect both herself and Homer's luggage. She closed the boot door and went inside. The rest would come in the delivery truck the next day.  
'Kids, come and get your things!' she called up the stairs. It was followed by a series of thumps and Bart and Lisa's appearing at the top of the stairs. Bart slid dow the banister and very nearly squashed Marge's foot.  
'Bart, I told you not to do that.'  
'But Lisa did it!' said Bart.  
'No I didn't!' objected Lisa.  
'Liar!'  
'Liar!'  
'Shut up!'  
'You shut up!'  
'Nerd!'  
'Spawn of the devil!'  
Bart stopped arguing. ' "Spawn of the devil", huh? I kinda like that...'  
Lisa cried out in rage and stomped off with her suitcase. Bart just smiled.  
'Round one to me, I think.' he said. Marge rolled her eyes. Collecting her own suitcase, she made her way up the stairs.

_

Homer woke up earlier than anyone else, for a change. He stretched and climbed out of his sleeping bag. What he wouldn't give for his nice, warm, comfortable bed. He tiptoed around Marge, stepped over Bart, dodged around Lisa and snuck past Maggie. After all, what he was going to do would require a lot of stealth.  
He blundered around the strange new house, walking into a cupboard because he thought it was the bathroom. How would he ever get used to living in this place? It needed a lot of work, and he wasn't up to that right now...  
Eventually, he found the staircase. He was about to take a step when he stepped on something small and furry. Snowball, Lisa's cat. Snowball let out a scream and hissed at Homer. He turned around to face her.  
'Okay, kitty, I don't want any trouble. I'm just going to back away slowly and forget this ever happened-' Homer was cut off. He had stepped on Bart's skateboard and was now tumbling down the stairs. He cried out at every bump of contact with a stair. He eventually came to a halt at the foot of the stairs. 'Ouch.' he said.  
He got up, feeling dizzy. He then looked up in the direction of the room he and the rest of the family had slept in. No stirring. Good, he thought. Now for Operation Big Stomach...

He opened the refridgerator. Nothing. 'D'oh!' he cried. He searched cupboards, under the sink, under the sofa; still nothing. Not a scrap of food anywhere. The takeaways he and the kids had had were a distant memory, and there was nothing for breakfast. Feeling no hope, he turned to leave the kitchen, but was met by the annoyed faces of his family.  
'Oh, uh, hi guys...' he said. 'If you guys have come down for breakfast, there's nothing in.'  
Marge raised an eyebrow. 'No, actually. We came down here because we were going to ask you to be quiet. That and asking you if you were going to the supermaket to buy something for breakfast.'  
'But Mom, its 7am. The shops won't even be open now.' said Lisa.  
'Yes, well, you'd be surprised to hear how many 24- hour shops there are in South Park. I guess its because there isn't much business around here and people have resorted to desperate measures.' replied Marge.  
'Yeah. I know I wouldn't stay up all night just to help lousy people. I need my beauty sleep...' Homer said. Bart sniggered.  
'Why you little...!' said Homer, grabbing hold of Bart.  
Lisa sighed. She sat at the kitchen table and looked around. Suddenly, a thought sprung to mind.  
'Hey Mom,' she asked her mother, who was watching Maggie with an eagle eye.  
'Yes dear?'  
'When are we starting school?' Lisa asked. Marge smiled.  
'Tomorrow. I phoned up the principal of South Park Elementary and she told me that you'd be placed in 3rd Grade and Bart will be in 4th. Just like in Springfield.'  
'Oh. Okay. Mom,' she said. 'have you actually seen South Park Elementary?'  
Marge paused before answering. 'Yes. Its...its very, uh, unique. Very unique indeed.'  
Lisa tried to puzzle what that meant. Unique bad or unique good? Whichever it was, it would need her to succeed.  
'Right.' announced Marge. 'Time to go shopping! Kids, get dressed. You too Homer.'  
Lisa and Bart charged off to their chosen rooms to get changed, and came down exactly 10 minutes later, wearing their chosen clothing. Lisa was pin neat, as usual. Her crimson dress self-ironed, hair combed and shoes polished. Bart, on the other hand, was the exact opposite. His orange shirt creased and shorts had a ketchup stain on them, and his hair looked like a spiky bush on his head.  
'Oh, Bart, you could try to look a little better. Here, let me get that stain on your shorts...' said Marge, licking the end of her own dress and trying to scrub off the stain. Bart backed away from his mother as if she was holding a meat cleaver.  
'No Mom! I like this look! It makes me feel rough and gives me a don't-ya-mess-with-me aura!'  
'Well, mister,' said Marge, standing up straight and crossing her arms, ' I'm not sure I like this rough you. It gives off bad parenting on both your father's and my parts.'  
'Oh, Mom, you're not a bad parent, and neither is Dad...' Lisa said, her voice trailing as Homer entered the room, shaking his wrists like a little girl and an eager look on his face.  
'Kids, I need to borrow some money. Not much, just $500. You have that money, don't you? Don't you?' he said.  
'I rest my case,' said Bart.  
Marge sighed once more and hurried off to get changed. When she came down a few minutes later Bart was playing with his Transformatrons action figures, Lisa was reading a book and Homer was zoned out on the floor of the front room. Now this is what I call orderly, thought Marge. 'Come on then, kids. Time to go shopping!'

Exactly 9 hours later, the family arrived home. Laden with shopping bags, Marge and Homer stumbled into the kitchen.  
'Ohhhhhh...' grumbled Homer, leaning on the fridge. 'Marge, remind me never to do shopping your way again...'  
Marge moaned. 'I agree, Homie. Well, on the bright side, we did get enough that we won't have to go shopping again for another...' she consulted her watch. '12 days.'  
'Ugghhh...that's not long enough for me.'  
Bart, Lisa and Maggie all collapsed on the sofa. When they had gone, the delivery men had put all of the furniture higgledy-piggeldy around the room. The kids didn't care, they were just happy to be away from that shop. Some group of kids had laughed when Homer threw a hissy fit in the middle of the store because Marge wouldn't let him put Cheesy Poofs in the trolley. Lisa and Bart had never been so embarrassed.  
Bart turned on his side to face his sister, who was lying on the armchair opposite him. 'Hey, Lis. You lookin' forward to school tomorrow?'  
Lisa gave him a weird look. 'What do you think, genius?'  
'Uhhhh...' said Bart. 'No?'  
Lisa just sighed. She would kiss the feet of the person who got through to her numb-skull brother.  
'Well, I don't know about you, but I sure am lookin' forward to all those pranks I'm gonna pull tomorrow. The adults at South Park Elementary have never seen the likes of Bartholomew J. Simpson before...' he cackled. Lisa just rolled her eyes and took her bag up to her room. The room she had been allocated to was a peach colour. The carpet was a sickly yellow, with a suspicious green stain by the door. Lisa remembered a song some of the girls in Springfield used to sing, "G-r-e-e-n and yellow, g-r-e-e-n and yellow. Oh Mom, be quick, I'm going to be sick. Just lay me down to die."

Lisa put away her clothes in the old wooden wardrobe the housing people had carelessly flung (well, not enough that it would break) into the box room, and dug out her Collin's Book of Literature out of her bag and placed it on the wonky shelf above her bed. She carefully took all of her awards out of her special rucksack and placed them in alphabetical order beside her book. She unrolled a poster and some Insta-Stick Tape she had bought with her very loose change at the corner shop and stuck it to her wall. It read;

Change the World with a :)  
She herself smiled. She unpacked the rest of her things and lay back, exhausted, but happy. Her room looked almost exactly like her old one, apart from the shape and colour change. She found she was missing Janey, Sherri and Terri very much. She reached to her left and picked up her cell phone. Rats, she thought. Only $1.00 credit. Better make it quick.  
Janey picked up on the first ring.  
'Hello?'  
'Hi Janey! It's Lisa.'  
'Oh, hey Lisa... how's South Park?'  
Lisa got up from her bed to look out of the window. Suddenly, she noticed it was snowing. How had she not noticed this earlier?  
'Oh, yeah. Its okay. Its snowing here. What about Springfield?'  
'Oh, thats okay too. Principal Skinner had to shut down the school because there was a dead raccoon in the air-conditioning vent. Some troublemaker put it there, he thinks.'  
'Uh-huh... hey, how's Colin?'  
'I thought you wanted to talk to me?'  
'I do! Its just that its nice to know what other people are up to, too.'  
'Well, he's still a little cut up about the move. Still an A++ grade student, but a little lonely. He thinks you moved because of the pollution, and has been canvassing more than ever to clean up the whole town.'  
Lisa was heard Marge call her downstairs for dinner. She said good bye to Janey and hung up, wishing she could have asked more about Colin.


	3. The Devil's Cabana Boy

_**Okay, chapter 3 will now commence! Any reviews are dearly welcome, critcal and helpful. I need this break, cuz I know if I don't update regularly I WILL go insane. BEWARE THE WRATH OF THE FLUFFY BUNNIES! MWA HA HA HA HA HA!**_  
_**Ahem. I rest my case. **_  
_**Again, MeridiaParcumArcanity, Thank you! so far, you are the only person to review. I will take your idea and have a boy/boys come round. I was actually quite looking forward to the Simpsons and South Park characters meeting. it would be like meeting Mickey Mouse (not the guy at Disneyworld who is desperate for a job and pretends to like kids hugging him) and Walt Disney (that would be creepy, seeing as he's dead and all) at the same time. althought I'm not a big fan of Disney...**_  
_**By the way, Rosebud Carmelita Lluvia Feliz Garcia-Juarez is NOT my character. She is the property of MedianParcumArcanity, and has very kindly let me use her for this story. If you use her without MedianParcumArcanity's permission, Rosebud will karate chop you, as will I and MedianParcumArcanity.**_  
_**Disclaimer; Hey man. countytyrone1 does NOT own South park or the Simpsons. They are the property of Matt Stone and Trey Parker (SP) and Matt Groening (Simp). Thank you, for listening, groovy dudes.**_

-

Bart woke up at around 6.45, hungry and everything hurting. At first he didn't know where he was. Then he remembered. His new house, his new life:  
_His new school._  
He felt as if he had been sent to Satan for a newspaper round and brought the wrong issue, resulting in spine-melting, eyeball-gouging painful punishment. School! He groaned so much that Santa's Little Helper, who had been dozing at the end of Bart's bed, woke up mid-snore, thinking the building was going to collapse or something.  
Eventually, as if his feet were bags of cement, he dragged his lazy body to the door, grabbed his dressing gown and thumped slowly towards the stairs. There, he met Lisa, who, as it appeared, was freshly dressed. She held and book in her hand and a smile on her face, yet Bart knew that something was bothering her.

'Hey Bart! Have a good sleep? Janey told me last night that Springfield Elementary got closed down yesterday because of a dead raccoon in the air vent. You wouldn't happen to know anything about this, would you?'  
Bart cocked his head to one side and smiled sleepily, but not without a hint of his evil smirk, at her. 'Well, actually, I do know something, Lisa.'  
Lisa was surprised. No matter how much she coaxed, she could never get Bart to open up to her over the many, many, many bad things he had done. She was intrigued. 'Yes?' she asked, 'And what would that be?'  
'There was a dead raccoon in the air conditioning vent yesterday.'  
'What?'  
'Well, you asked me what I knew about it after you told me about it, so I know there was a dead raccoon in the air conditioning vent at school yesterday.' He smiled serenly at her. Lisa just rolled her eyes and went downstairs.  
Bart and Lisa smelt the breakfast before they saw it. They rushed to the table, eagar to get to the biggest plate of waffles first.  
'Hey, kids,' said Marge. She looked great. Her dress was clean and fresh, her hair shiny and even bluer than ever, and best of all, she was carrying a plate of hot, steamy, gooey waffles. 'Did you get enough sleep? You should have done, as the first day of school is often the hardest! Eat up! I got a special deal on waffles at the mall so eat till you drop! Or is it "shop"? I forget...'  
Homer was at the table, hidden behind a newspaper. He was fully dressed from all Lisa and Bart could see.  
They finished their waffles and collected their coats, heading out the door. Lisa felt a chill run down her spine, and not just because of the frost. She hated the first days of school. Being known as the New Kid was bad enough, but you just feel awkward around people. You stay away from large groups, engage in as little conversation as possible and basically hide yourself. And that was what made you unpopular. Sociophobia.  
They clambered into the car and sat there for at least 10 minutes before the car started up. Marge sat back, satisfied and drove. Bart leaned his head on his palm and huffed on the window, writing rude words in the steam. Maggie was playing Baby Blast and looking as if she might pay anyone a nasty bite if they disturbed her. Lisa would have been reading, or biting her nails, but she was too scared of her fingers freezing themselves together to take them out of her pockets.  
Instead she watched as the family car drove past ugly, squat little shops with sour expressions and a few ugly, squat little people with sour expressions.

Marge pulled up beside a rectangular, yellow building with a purple roof. There was a sign above the entrance. South Park Elementary. Lisa and Bart gulped.  
'Well, Bart, Lisa. I can't come in any further, so i'm going to have to leave you here. Will you be okay?'  
Bart and Lisa nodded, but they knew what the real answer was.  
They clambered out of the car, their hearts pounding. They saw the other kids that went there just walk up to the school and inside without a care in the world. Bart slammed the door of the car after giving Marge a kiss, and watched as she drove off. He then turned to the school and began marching up, suddenly fearless. Lisa realized she was alone on the side walk and ran to catch up with him.  
'Bart, aren't you nervous?' she asked her big brother.  
'No.'  
'You aren't?'  
'Nope.'  
'Not even a little bit?'  
Bart stopped to face his sister, looking into her eyes.  
'Lisa,' he said. 'You have forgotten. I am Bartholomew J. Simpson. Rebel, prankster, and, as you have once put it, the Devil's cabana boy. There is_ no_ classroom, detention room or school that can handle me. I'll have these losers begging for resignation in maximum 3 days. So to answer your question, no, **I'm-not-scared**.'  
Lisa was quite surprised. She would have expected Bart to come out with some guff about how lame she was for thinking such a thing. But actually, his mini-speech touched her, in the Satan heart-stabbing way that only Bart could portray. Slowly, she slid her hand into Bart's. He looked down, and around, expecting a "Haw-haw!" or "Bart loves Lisa!", but recieved silence. They walked into the school, hand in hand.

When allocated their lockers and classrooms, (giving Lisa's intellect, she was placed in 4th, instead of 3rd grade. Something that never seemed to happen in Springfield) Bart and Lisa went to class.  
Lisa looked for a seat and found one, at the front of the rows. She sat down and began to read her book, A Biography of Charles Dickens.  
But Bart delayed coming in, depict on making a snazzy (aka; LATE) entrance. Lisa didn't worry. he was ten, she was eight. That was how God made them both.  
Lisa noticed something. Four of the boys she was sure she had seen before. Yes, one morbidly obese, one wearing a green ushanka, one wearing a red and blue bobble hat and the other an orange parka. Wait just a cotton-pickin' minute! These were the guys at the supermarket! The guys that had laughed when Homer threw a hissy- fit in the middle of it! She studied them all, but especially the ushanka one. He was cute, in her way, anyway. Something the blue-and-red bobble guy said made Ushanka guy laugh. The kid wearing an orange parka was buried in an issue of Playboy. The fat kid looked kinda P.O-ed. No-one was talking to him.  
Suddenly, the classroom door opened and a man-no, a woman- walked in. She was wearing a sleeveless green top, glasses, earrings and her hair was like... a man's...  
'Okay, children, take your seats.' she said. She set her books on the desk at the front of the room and began to write on the chalkboard. Everyone took their respective seats, and settled down. Lisa did her usual school morning routine; close book, eyes up, sit up straight, but was greeted by a snigger across the classroom.  
'Now, now, children. I see we have a new student in our class. Would you like to tell everyone a little about yourself, sweetheart?' asked the teacher. She said sweetheart as if it was poison on her tongue.  
Lisa stood up and took the chalk from her teacher's hand. She wrote My name is Lisa Simpson.  
'Well, uh, my name, as you can see, is Lisa Simpson. I'm eight years old, used to live-'  
A black boy with a T on his shirt put up his hand. Lisa stopped.  
'Yes?' she asked.  
'If you're eight, how come you're in the fourth grade?' he asked. An appreciative murmur went about the class.  
'Well, your headmistress put me in this class, as she puts it, for intellectual reasons. She thinks my "young, fertile, intellectual mind will not grow in 3rd grade, but perish. And besides, your mother pays us extra to put you in the grade above."'  
There was even more whispering at this.  
'So,' Lisa continued. 'As I was saying. I am eight years old, and I moved to South Park from Springfield. An...interesting town located inbetween Ohio, Nevada, Maine and Kentucky. Once we got shut in a massive glass dome covering the entire town, because of a serious pollution matter-'  
'Yeah right!' came a voice from the back. The whole class giggled. Lisa continued.  
'-that the government thought would harm the rest of the state.' Lisa didn't want to add that the whole reason behind the glass dome was her father. 'And once we let Shelbyviller's share Springfield, but ended up regretting it afterwards. So we built a huge wall seperating the two towns.'  
A young boy in crutches put up his hand.  
'Yes?' she asked.  
'W-w-wh-wh-where's Shelbyville?' he asked.  
'It's Springfield's sister town. We went to a show there one day but they made Springfielders look like hicks.'  
The teacher clapped her hands, indicating Lisa should sit down now. 'Well, Lisa, that was very...enlightening. By the way, you don't happen to know who that spiky haired little kid is lounging around outside, do you?'  
Lisa's face fell. 'Yes,' she began. 'He's my-'  
The door bust open, startling everyone. The door flung off its hinges and hit the parka kid, knocking him off his chair. He lay on the floor, motionless.  
'Oh my God, they killed Kenny!' yelled Blue and Red.  
'You b*****ds!' shouted Ushanka guy.  
Lisa was shocked. She had just witnessed death,_ everyone_ had, and yet after the remark Blue and Red and Ushanka had made nobody seemed to care. Lisa began to wonder if this kind of thing happened in South Park every day.  
Lisa sighed and put her head in her hands. 'Brother. He's-my-brother.'

_**Dun dun duuuuuuun! Cliffhanger! **_

_**Yes, guys, I censored the swear words myself. I'm not allowed to post them. Deal with it.**_

_**Next chapter will be the introduction of **_**_Rosebud Carmelita Lluvia Feliz Garcia-Juarez_**_** (again, MeridiaParcumrcanity's character). Fasten your seatbelts!**_


	4. To Nip in the Rosebud

_**Okay, nobody move.**_  
_**This is Chapter 4 of SFE. Please remain seated for the entire performance. Thank you.**_ _**I also want to be modest and say the whole thing in bold at the end **_**is **not** my work. **_**MediaParcumArcanity gave it to me to use, in order to introduce Rosebud. I would also like this oppurtunity to say that Rosebud is **_not _**my character. She is the property of MediaParcumArcanity. In fact, a lot of the stuff written here was because of the inspirational MediaParcumArcanity. I'm really sorry if I get your name wrong. **_

_**Well, here's Chapter 4! Enjoy!**_

Lisa ran out to the playground when recess was announced. She couldn't stay in the classroom for any longer. Mrs Garrison had completely dissed the history of evolution, the way she had worshipped it since she was two years old. She had called it "bullc**p". In Lisa's eyes, this was slander.  
She sat on the swings and tucked her legs up, opening her book. As fast as she had arrived, a huge shadow cast over her, completely blocking the only ray of sunshine in the entire playground. She looked up. It was that morbidly obese kid in her class. He stood over her like a magnifying glass over an ant.  
'Hey, nerd. What you reading?'  
Lisa did not react. she was well used to being called nerd from her old school. This was getting old.  
'Actually,' she said calmly, 'I'm reading a biography of Charles Dickens.'  
The fat kid started to snigger. 'Charles Dickens! My God, is that what passes for nerd entertainment these days? Ha ha, ha ha...'  
Lisa heard a voice from across the playground.  
'Hey fatboy, get your butt over here and help us melt Shelley's Barbie doll! Damien's gonna help!' It was the Ushanka kid, with Red and Blue and a kid dressed all in black. Ushanka noticed Lisa and motioned for her to follow.  
Lisa walked over and saw Ushanka, Red-and-Blue and Kid in Black holding a pink-clad plastic doll in one hand and a camera in the other. Lisa made a mental note never to let these guys anywhere near her Malibu Stacey collection.  
Ushanka smiled at Lisa but scowled at the fat kid.  
'Hi,' he said. 'I'm Kyle Broflovski.'  
'He's a Jew.' said the fat kid.  
'Actually, Cartman, we don't need your help. Why don't you go poke your cat or torture six year-olds or whatever else it is that you fat psychopaths do on a Monday morning.' said Kyle.  
'Hey, don't call me fat, Jewboy!'  
'Don't dis me, fatboy!'  
'Fight, fight, fight!' shouted the kid in black.  
Lisa rolled her eyes.  
'Hey, come on guys. Lets do this already.' said Red and Blue. He smiled and rolled his eyes chivalrously at Lisa, who blushed.  
Eventually, Cartman walked away. Lisa swore she saw him kick a six year-old on his way, though.  
'Okay then, Lisa. I'm Kyle, this is Stan Marsh-' he motioned to the kid in red and blue, 'and this is Damien Thorn.'  
'I'm the only son of Satan.' said Damien.  
Lisa nodded. She had heard it all before. Big heads who insisted they were spawn of the Devil.  
Damien looked angry. 'No, I really am. My father, the one you puny mortals call Lucifer, is the Devil. He sent me here to look for Jesus, and decided to fight him.'  
'Yeah. Unfortunately, the ultimate fight of good and evil was on the same day as Cartman's birthday. He got all P.O-ed and threatened us. We did go, but left eventually. I've never seen that fat*ss eat so much.' said Stan.  
Lisa smiled. 'This place sounds like a bit of a crazy town.' she said.  
'Yeah. So how crazy was... where did you say you were from?'  
'Springfield.'  
'Oh yeah. How crazy exactly?'  
So Lisa spent the whole recess explaining to the boys the weird antics of Springfield. About Otto, the senile bus driver, Principal Skinner, the only headmaster in the world who still lived with his mother, Homer, (though she left out the bits where Homer trapped them in that dome) and the many, many others. When she was done, she was out of breath.  
'Woah,' said Kyle. 'Your town was totally off the rails.'  
'Totally,' said Stan.  
Lisa jumped when she heard a hand-rung bell ring out. An ugly woman ringing it was swearing at a couple of kids who were lagging behind. Stan shook his head and put his hands in his pockets.  
'Get used to that, Lisa. There's gonna be a lot of it.'  
Lisa just smiled. It seemed she had, for once in her life, made some genuine friends.  
'Hey, Lisa,' said Kyle, as they reached the equally freezing indoors. (Damien had seen some kids holding a lot of books and had left the coversation to go burn them for the fun of it) 'I was-I mean, we were wondering... if you wanted to come over to Stan's one Saturday and play video games?'  
Lisa thought for a minute. Stan and Kyle seemed like such honest, nice boys. Surely what could be wrong with playing some video games with them, the one day of the week she had five-minutes of peace?  
'Sure,' she said. 'I'd love to. But, just so you know, my brother won't be too happy about it. You see, he was always the one who got asked for video games in Springfield. Not me.'  
'That's okay.' said Stan. 'Bring him too, if you want.'  
'Really?'  
'Sure!' said Stan and Kyle in unison.  
Lisa smiled.  
'So, what's our next class?' she asked. Kyle dug out his schedule from his backpack and glanced at it for a minute.  
'Biology. I just hope Kenny doesn't eat manatee guts again...'  
'What?'  
'Eh, just something stupid he did ages ago on a bet.' said Kyle. Just then, the orange parka kid appeared beside them. He waved at Lisa and then dug out his old copy of Playboy.  
'That's Kenny. You'll see him in a lot of classes. Just so you know, he loves his parka.' said Kyle.  
'Nah, its cuz he's too goddamn poor to wear anything else!' came a voice from behind them. Stan, Kyle, Kenny and Lisa turned around to see Cartman, looking triumphant. Kenny said what sounded to Lisa like an awful lot of swear words.  
'Has little Jewboy got a girlfriend now? Awwww, at last, my little Jew's growing up!' he said, wiping an imaginary tear from his eye. But then he turned on Stan. 'Or you? Wendy will not like that, will she?'  
'My god, fat*ss, are you really as dumb as you look? Nah, I suppose if you were, you wouldn't be able to walk and talk at the same time. No, me and Wendy are history. You saw what an utter brat she was!' said Stan, pinching the bridge of his nose in experation.  
'Whatever, Stan. I'm still telling Wendy.'  
'Shut up!'  
'Yeah, shut up!'  
'Keep outtah this, Jewface!'  
'Fatboy!'

Bart was just turning the corner when he heard this argument. He hurried to the scene, finding Cartman about to take a swing at either Stan, Kyle or Kenny. He ran up to him from behind and knocked him, sending the fat kid crashing to the ground.  
CRASH!  
Cartman was left breathless on the floor. He lay there for about 10 seconds before getting up, red in the face, and very, very angry.  
'Who do you think you are!?' he cried.  
'I am Bartholomew . Bart for short. And...you are?' asked Bart, in such a posh accent that Pip- the British boy passing- looked up, quite surprised.  
'Eric Cartman. Known as Cartman.'  
'And Fat*ss.'  
'Shut up, Jew!'  
Bart looked at Cartman with the same smirk as a cat who got the cream. Cartman stood up straight, breathed out slowly and looked Bart straight in the eye.  
'This-is-war,' he said. He then stomped off, the fat overflowing over his trousers wobbling as he went.  
As soon as he was gone Stan, Kyle, Kenny, Bart and Lisa burst out in fits of laughter.

'Wow, Lisa, you're really good at this!'  
Lisa looked up from her experiment and smiled. Both Kyle and Stan were being so nice to her. There was no way she would miss Saturday. not for anything.

_The next day, at the bus stop..._

**"Thanks a bunch, Larry Lunchpail!" Rosebud waved at the bus driver, who just chuckled a little and turned the bus around. She hopped easily out of the doorway and walked down the greyish gravelly road, her black Converse sneakers making a grinding noise as she moved. Something caught her eye; a small dilapidated wooden sign with some letters branded into it.**  
**"South Park. Okay then." Looking around and seeing several brightly-colored buildings in the distance, Rosebud decided she was going to walk that way and see where it took her.**  
**"I got one helluva sweet deal. It's Monday and no school means no blues." She considered it, looked at her watch, mulled things over and realised something.**  
**"Wait... It was 8pm Friday when I left Miami. If it's been over a day and it's 6am now- I was on that accursed bus for 36 hours? How did I hold it in?" The girl dashed for the bushes by the side of the road, coming out roughly two minutes later. Walking for another hour or so, she came across a cheap-looking Motel 6. Right next to it, a place called Chastity Inn- a huge white villa with fountains and plants and balconies and a pool that was unnecessary because it was always frozen due to the perpetual chilliness of the area. Staying here, she mused, wasn't such a bad option, but as she checked her backpack she found only four dollars.**  
**"Not even enough for one night in the Motel-f*cking-6." She knew she was going to have to wing it. Since it was about six o'clock, she figured she could pretend to be that new kid who just moved in for a day, if just to have a place to go. And it seemed Lady Luck was smiling down upon her for once because there were four boys standing a few yards away from her. She strolled over to them and stood next to the foursome. As she thought of some nicknames to have at the ready in case they mocked her (namely lardbutt, flaphat, and that was as far as she got), her train of thought was interrupted as the fatter of the four spoke up.**  
**"And just who the f*cking f*ck are you?" Rosebud took a deep breath- this was going to take some seriously great acting. She flipped her wavy chocolate-brown hair back over one shoulder, gave the tubby kid her best "I'm-totally-in-love-with-you" look, and tried to put on a soothing, flirty voice as she said;**  
**"Ju can call me whatever ju want, baby." At this the fat kid was silent for a minute, his face emotionless, while the blond kid whose cheap orange coat was too small giggled a bit and the remaining two just stared. A moment passed, and then the first kid burst out laughing, a little too loud.**  
**"Dude, what the f*ck is up with that accent?! You talk like that hand puppet I used to have!" Rosebud sighed, rolled her eyes, thinking it best to fess up.**  
**"Okay. For one thing, I don't have to do that if I don't want to. Is an act, hombre. I am Dominican but am also from Oregon." She dropped the accent. "Okay. I was on my way to Denver to stay with my aunt Yanira- word is Denver is the next stop for the Fountains Of Wayne tour. But this bald guy told me the only bus was headed for South Park. It was leaving, so I punched out the window, and paid the driver five hundred to not call the cops on me. Anyway I was on the bus for 36 hours, and after the bribe I was so broke I couldn't afford a Motel 6 so I needed a place to go so they didn't send me to the mental ward or the poorhouse if this dump even has one. It was conveniently around 6am on a Monday, so I walked for a bit until I found you four who I can only hope are waiting for the schoolbus. Does that clear things up?"**  
**The kid who had spoken slapped his forehead in mock exasperation.**  
**"That-was not- my question. Who- the- f*cking-f*ck-are-you? Am I suddenly speaking Jewish?"**  
**"Hebrew, *sshat." the green flaphat kid piped up. "It's Hebrew."**  
**The fat kid ignored him and continued to adress Rosebud, speaking very slowly and loudly.**  
**"I...am...Cartman." He pointed at himself. He then patted the kid in the orange coat on the head. "This...is...Kenny. Ken-neeeee." The boy quickly grabbed flaphat kid's hat, so that the latter's curly red hair flew out in every direction.**

**"Hey!"**

**"This...is...Jewface. Jeeeeew-fayyyce." The kid who wasn't wearing the green flaphat anymore grabbed it back.**  
**"Up yours, fat*ss." He then addressed Rosebud and held out his hand. "I'm Kyle." Rosebud shook it, and gave Kyle a warm smile. The fourth kid, who had remained silent until then, stepped forward before Cartman could taunt Kyle any more.**  
**"I'm Stan."**  
**Cartman-the fat kid- then continued speaking veeery sloooowly. "And yoooouuuu aaaarrrreee?" Rosebud decided to respond in her Spanish accent, just to annoy Cartman.**  
**"Well, chicos, I am what prejudiced culos like de fatboy-Cartman, right?- would maybe call a wierdo. I pick a name for myself every day, but people call me whatever dey want. I have been Rosebud for tree days now, so ees really time for a change. Today's name is- Rania." Cartman laughed again.**  
**"You're doing it again."**  
**"I never said I would stop doing it, idiota. Now can ju tell me de name of dee buz driver?"**

**"Why?"**

**"I want to make eet known from dee very beginning dat Rania Garcia-Juarez eez a complete ojo derecho del maestro."**

**"What?"**

**"Teacher's pet."**

**"Speak English, goddammit."**


	5. Guitar Queer-o and Petrol on the Fire

_**Be bold, be bold, but not too bold**_  
_**Lest your heart's blood should run cold**_  
_**Yeah, bit depressing. Try it on some person you don't really like. It freaks them out,, it really does.**_  
_**Okay, chapter 5, Rosebud has just been introduced, and I will now do my best to make her the same stunning kid MeridiaParcumArcanity did. **_  
_**For some pointless reason, I want to say I am listening to Hatsune Miku "World is Mine" while writing this. A friend recommended it to me. Enjoy!**_

The week seemed to glide by to Lisa. She spent more and more time with the boys, leaving the other girls in her class jealous that the boys were giving her all the attention. Lisa learnt how to burp the ABC's, shoot a not-even-looking hoop, and forge a signature (this one, even though she said she disapproved, she mastered).  
On a Friday night, when the Simpson family were watching a soap opera, the doorbell rung. Lisa got up to get it (in her new washed out jeans, boys t-shirt and sneakers) and found Leopold "Butters" Stotch and Tweek Tweak, the jumpy coffee addicted kid in her class.  
'H-hey, Lisa!' said Butters. 'Me and Tweek here were just a-wonderin', if- if you wanted to come over to Kyle's and join us fellars in our Special Guitar Hero Night? We've got Pepsi and nachos and loads of candy!'  
'Y-yeah!' said Tweek, looking anxiously around his shoulder.  
'One minute, guys, I need to ask my mom...' said Lisa.  
She walked into the living room. Homer and Marge were sat there, eyes glued to the screen. Lisa shifted from one foot to the other.  
'Uh, Mom?' she asked. 'Is it okay if I go with Butters and Tweek to Kyle's house? Its their Special Guitar Hero Night and they want me there.'  
Marge looked up, surprised. 'Butters and Tweek?'  
'They are these two boys in my grade. They're at the door, if you want to meet them...'  
Marge was way ahead of her. She had already jumped up to the door, eager to see these two boys. Butters was surprised when he saw her. Tweek just screamed, obviously scared by her bizarre hairstyle.  
'H-hi, Mrs Simpson. Is it okay if Lisa comes over to Kyle's for our Guitar Hero Night? I mean, she's really good at it.' stuttered Butters.  
Marge looked at them both, frowning. 'There won't be any... alcohol at this party, will there?'  
'No way! Uh, I mean, Kyle tried some once, and didn't like it, so I'm pretty sure there won't be any alcohol there, ma'am.'  
'N-n-nope,' shivered Tweek.  
'Well, okay. I'd like her home at 10, at the latest. Where does this Kyle live?'  
So Butters reeled off Kyle's address and Lisa followed both of the boys to Kyle's house. She was looking forward to this. The boys made great conversation. Butters talked about basketball and school and music, (Lisa casually slipped in that she played the saxophone, to which Butters replied, "Awesomundo! You know, I have always wanted to play an instrument. Once Cartman started up this Christian Rock band and it kinda ended in disaster.'  
Lisa understood. Cartman looked like a real jerk. Looked _and_ acted.  
They reached Kyle's house, and heard the faint cheers and guitar riffs from inside. They went up the path and knocked three times. Stan answered the door.  
'Hey guys!' he noticed Lisa. 'Hey! Decided to show up, huh? Come on inside, we're just getting started.'  
Lisa followed Butters and Tweek inside the house. It was relatively tidy. Apart from the Coke, Pepsi and Sprite cans littering the floor. And a couple of the guys.  
'Hey, guys! Lisa's here!' said Stan. A chorus of "Hey's!" and "Hi's!" rose up from the pile of kids. Cartman was there, and he didn't look too happy about it. He took one look at Lisa and angrily stuffed Cheetos in his mouth.  
Kyle led her to the "stage" and handed her his control. Lisa took her position, and began to play.

-  
Meanwhile, at the Simpsons household...

Bart lay sideways on his bed. He kept stealing glances at the Krusty the Clown clock on his bedside table. 19.07, it read.

He looked around his small, orange room. His _Itchy and Scratchy_ memerobilia and _Krusty the Clown_ posters lay in a heap in a corner. His box of practical jokes and pranks was sat at the side of his room, gathering dust. He was surrounded by all his favorite things. Yet, he was unhappy. No, more than that. He was jealous. And, while he never, ever thought he'd think this before now, he was jealous of his (sometimes) mortal enemy, the thorn in his foot...  
His sister, Lisa Marie Simpson.

He sighed and rolled over on his side. Why was Lisa getting all the attention now? And by guys? Bart was always the one getting invited to play video games. Yes, maybe it was only ever Milhouse who invited him, but still. Lisa must have something he didn't. Something that made the guys like her more than him.  
Suddenly, he had an idea. He leapt off the bed, crept down the corridor, and pushed open Lisa's bedroom door. He walked over to her bed, and lifted up the mattress. Nope, he thought.  
He was to her bookcase and scanned the shelf of bland, old-fashioned books. Yuck, he thought to himself, Lisa must have the mind of a seventy-year old woman if she likes these kinds of books... He was cut off. He spotted something sticking out from the drawer of Lisa's dressing table. It was shiny, colourful, had pages...  
'What the hell...' said Bart, as he pulled out the book. '_A comic_?!' he cried, and immediately regretted. He put his hand over his mouth and stayed as quiet as he could. Marge had promised severe consequences if she caught him in Lisa's room. She must have had this crazy idea that Bart was going to steal all her trophies, or something.  
When the house was silent, Bart took his hand away from his mouth and continued to look at the thing he was holding. A comic? Lisa owned a comic book? He thought for a minute, and then, something else caught his eye. It must have been underneath the comic.

_Bingo_, Bart thought. He dropped the comic and took out this book instead. It was leather bound, and had a picture of all the women in history that Lisa respcted so much. Bart opened the book to the page marked with a butterfly bookmark, and began to read.

_Dear log,_  
_ I am beginning to think all this trouble of moving to South Park was for nothing. It's really nice here. Stan, Kyle and Kenny are all really nice. Kyle comes to Science Club with me, Stan shares his lunch with me and Kenny bought me a new Charles Dickens biography after Cartman threw mine in a puddle. _  
_Oh dear. Cartman. I think that kid has some anger management problems. He won't stop calling Kyle a dirty Jew rat and calling Kenny poor. Kyle retaliates, which is good, but when Cartman called Kenny poor in Shop Class on Wednesday Kenny chased him round the room with a plank of wood. With splinters._  
_Oh yes, school. Its okay. I'm still top of the class. Its a good feeling, knowing that you are going to have a future as an adult. Mrs Garrison is the lousiest teacher ever. She completely dissed the theory of evolution! Charles Darwin would be so . _  
_Well, I have to go. Mom is doing her special vegetarian pasta for dinner._

Bart closed the journal. This was the kind of thing that went through Lisa's head? He replaced the book where he found it and crept out of the room. Before he went, he checked the clock by Lisa's bed. _19.45_. Boy, he was a slow reader.  
He crept out of the room, and went downstairs. Marge was in the kitchen, and Homer was asleep on the couch. Bart wedged the remote from Homer's grasp and began to change the channels, looking for the _Krusty the Clown Show_. But instead of seeing _Itchy and Scratchy Show_, he saw two weird looking guys with British accents farting on eachother.

'What the hell...?' he said, just as the front door opened. Lisa walked in, a Coke stain on her jeans and a smear of chocolate on her cheek.  
'See ya, guys!' she called behind her. A chorus of about 5 "Bye!"'s came from outside. Lisa shut the door and smiled. Bart just looked at her and crossed his arms across his chest. Lisa's smile dissappeared as soon as his glare caught her eye.  
'What?' she said. She went upstairs just as Marge came into the room.  
'Bart, Lisa, time for bed!' she spotted Lisa going up the stairs. 'Lisa! How was it?'  
Lisa spun round and smiled at her mother. 'Oh, it was great, Mom! Kyle taught me how to do a super cool riff on Level 5! And, did you know, Kyle is Jewish?'  
Marge cocked her head to one side and smiled. 'Oh, that's great honey! But can you tell me about it in the morning? I have to get to bed. I have to prepare for work early tomorrow. Its my first day Monday!' Lisa looked interested.  
'Mom, you haven't even told us what your job is!'  
'Yeah!' intercepted Bart.  
'Well, if you must know... I'm an artist. Well, I teach art.'  
'Mom! Thats great! Where?'  
Marge bit her lip and looked nervously at Bart. 'I teach...at your school...'

Bart did a double take. His _mom_? Teaching at his _school_? How was this possible?  
Lisa, on the other hand, was overjoyed. Her _mom_! Teaching at her _school_! How was this possible? Lisa started jumping around while Bart looked as if he had just been kicked in the crotch.  
'Well, I'll tell you more tomorrow. Right now you two have to get to bed. Goodnight!'

Bart and Lisa went upstairs and prepared for bed. As they settled down, they both had their own opinions of Marge teaching at their school.

-  
_Later that night... at about...uh...11.30..._

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The house was still and silent.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Eric Cartman rose out of bed. 'Goddammit...' he mumbled. He opened his bedroom door and went downstairs. There was a silhouette outside the window. He opened the door, to reveal a girl, around his age, standing on the steps. Her longish, wavy, chocolate- brown hair was white with snow, her face even whiter with cold. His eyes widened.  
'_You_!' he whispered. The girl, who's lips were blue, smiled.  
'Yeah, bay-beeeeee, I'm back.' she said. Cartman almost closed the door on her, but the girl stuck her foot in front of it and barged in. She shook the snow out of her hair and looked around the room. 'Nice place. Your mama in?'  
'Yes, now you can get out.' said Cartman.  
The girl pretended to look like she was thinking, then smirked. 'Nah.' she said. She walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge. 'Woah, mama. Are you rich? Look at this! Quadruple Choc Ice- Cream with Butterscotch and Syrup! Yum!' She opened some cupboards until she found a bowl and a spoon, and began to spoon great big dollops of ice-cream into the bowl, while Cartman looked on angrily.  
'Just what the f*** do you think you are doing?' he said. The girl looked up from her bowl of ice-cream and raised her eyebrows.  
'Language! Hey, you got any more syrup, chico?'  
'Goddammit! You're doing it again!'  
'Mmm-hmm. Now, where is that syrup?'  
Cartman put his hands on his very wide hips and glared at the girl. She continued to look through his cupboards.  
'Don't I know you?' he asked. 'Yeah! You're that crazy b***h from a few days ago! The chick with the weird name! What was it? Rosie? Rajay?'  
'It was Rosebud, idiota. Actually, it was Rania, but now I think Rosebud suits me much better. Btw, the name changing thing? Just a little mingf**k thing I like to do. You no take it to heart, eh? My real name is Rosebud, but people call me whatever dey want.'  
Cartman sighed. 'Okay, b***h, you've had your fun. Now will you get the hell out of my house? You're eating _my_ ice-cream.'  
Rosebud smirked. 'Actually, no, I'm not. I'm eating _our_ ice-cream. Your mama put up a _Room to Let_ sign while you were out at your friend's. I had enough change to get a room for the night. Or a few. So, ju will have to get used to it, chico.' She slurped up the last of her ice-cream and dumped the bowl in the sink. Collecting up her backpack, she flipped her hair away from her face. 'Now, if you no mind, I must get some sleep. First door on the right, right? Goodnight,_ bay-beeee!_'

Cartman just stood in the kitchen, watching Rosebud until her knee-high red Converse were out of sight.

_**Okay, well. My fingers are aching, and I still have about 7 chapters left. I need your support! Well, until the next chapter, bay-beeee! XD**_


	6. The Butterfly Bookmark

_**Ola! Its me! Oh, that sounded pig-headed... soz peepol.**_  
_**WOW! I LOOOOOOOOOOOOOVE WRITING ROSEBUD! She is the kind of girl who can make you turn that frown upside down! Like a porkbellypiechickiedeeguybir dsgonnaflythatcookiesminecat cherintheryehelicopterinthes ky! (Collapses from air deprivation)**_  
_**Kyle; Well, this is embarrassing...**_  
_**Stan; Yeah... Well, looks like we are gonna have to do the disclaimer, huh?**_  
_**Kyle: I guess...**_  
_**Stan+Kyle; screwyouguysi'mgoinghome does NOT own us! Or Simpsons, or Harry Potter, or Angelica Button, or Rosebud!**_  
_**Kyle; Thanks for listening!**_  
_**Homer; Oh-kayy, who wants waffles?**_  
_**Stan+Kyle+Eric+Kenny+Rosebud+Lisa+Bart; I do I do I do!**_  
_**Marge; Wait, what about screwyouguysi'mgoinghome?**_  
_**Bart; I want syrup!**_  
_**Lisa; I want strawberries!**_  
_**Marge; Something happened to that girl!**_  
_**Rosebud; I want marshmallows!**_  
_**Kenny; Me too!**_  
_**Homer; I'll tell you what happened. A certain someone had her first death experience. But thats okay, cuz she's our friend, and we got to do the Disclaimer all by ourself.**_  
_**Kids; Yeah!**_  
_**Marge; Whats the point in starring in a story if the girl who created it suddenly collapses, we ignore it? Right, screwyouguysi'mgoinghome?**_  
_**Me; ...I want fudge on my waffles!**_  
_**Homer; I rest my case!**_  
_**By the way, want to give a shout out to MeridiaParcumArcanity! It was her birthday on February 28th! Send a happy b-day note out to her in your reviews!**_

Rosebud got off the bus and thanked the driver (feeling a major sense of deja vu). Turning to face the school, she pulled out a beautiful red studded notebook and sparkly gold pen and noted every detail of the front of the school.  
'Broken window? Check. Peeling paint? Check. Graffitti? Check.' She marked off some of the things in her book and replaced it in the front pocket of her backpack. 'I was right. This place is a dump.'  
She stuck her pen in her trouser pocket and skipped towards the school. A few passerby's looked on at her dramatic clothing, but Rosebud just shook them off. Today was a new day, after all.  
She walked into the school, dodged around most of the pupils, and came to a door labeled "Principal". She knocked twice, and came in.  
The principal was a blonde, frizzy-haired woman with glasses too small for her eyes. She sat behind a wooden desk, her hands clasped in front of her. She smiled at Rosebud as she came in.  
'Good morning. Can I help you?' she asked. Rosebud smiled and sat in the seat in front of the Principal.  
'Hi, my name is Rosebud Carmelita Lluvia Feliz Garcia-Juarez. But Rosebud Garcia-Juarez will be fine. I'm the new student Mrs Cartman took in?'  
'Ah!' said the principal 'So you are the new student! How...' she looked at Rosebud's boots. '...interesting. Well, here is your schedule. Your locker number is 547. Right next to your classroom. Well, I should think your first class is starting soon, so I would take this time to put your things in your locker and make some friends! Thank you, Miss Garcia-Juarez, and welcome aboard!'  
Rosebud nodded uneasily and backed out of the office. Weird, she thought.  
She found her locker and began putting her things inside. While she was doing this, she spotted a small gaggle of girls pointing in her direction and whispering. A raven-haired girl with a purple beret, presumably the leader, strutted up to Rosebud.  
'Hi. I'm Wendy Testaburger. I'm in your class. I just wanted to ask; where did you get those clothes? Wal-Mart?' she said, spluttering with laughter. Rosebud slammed her locker door so powerfully that it startled Wendy out of her little snort-fest. She looked at Rosebud with intrigument.  
'No, chica,' said Rosebud, in her powerful accent, even though Cartman was no-where in sight. 'These clothes were shipped from New Zealand especially. If you no like, go file your nails or whatever it is you self-obsessed divas do in your spare time, eh?'  
Wendy looked taken-aback, but quickly regained composure. She did not want to make this tough new girl think she was scared of her.  
'You just found yourself an enemy for life, _chica_.' said Wendy. She sashayed back to her friends and they all gathered round her like ravens. Wendy turned her head to glare at Rosebud, but found that she was already gone.

Rosebud flicked her hair back and sat at a seat. She took out a number of colourful notepads and pens, and looked around the room for insprisration. None. Only the kids, desks and bland posters on the wall. She looked outside. It was grey and bleak. The swings rocked forlornly. The climbing frame stood alone.  
She noticed a few kids staring at her.  
'What are you looking at?' she said to a boy with a tuft of blond hair on his head. The kid immediately turned away, as did a few other kids.  
Then, Rosebud noticed a girl, sitting with Cartman and the other boys at the bus stop. Her hair was blond and starfish shaped, with a boys shirt, jeans and scuffed up sneakers. Tomboy, thought Rosebud.  
A man-or a woman, Rosebud was too psyched to decide- came into the room, laden with a box of books. He-or she- dumped them on the desk and turned to the students.  
'Okay, children, take your seats. Craig, put down that finger! Tweek, stop jumping about. Lisa-' the teacher stopped. S/he was looking at Starfish Girl, who had her arms folded over the desk, sitting up straight and looking at the teacher. 'Never mind. No, wait. Lisa, where is your brother?'  
The girl called Lisa shrugged.  
The teacher studied the class, and then found a face s/he did not recognise.  
'And whio might you be?' s/he asked, rather rudely. Rosebud decided she did not like this teacher.  
'Rosebud Carmelita Lluvia Feliz Garcia-Juarez,' said Rosbud, quite bored. 'But Rosebud Garcia-Juarez, if you want.'  
The teacher looked quite taken aback at this mouthful of a name, and looked as if s/he had decided to take Rosebud's suggested name.  
'Very well. Would you like to come up and introduce yourself properly?'  
Rosebud got up from her desk, hearing some giggles at her exotic clothing, and took the chalk from her teacher's hand. She wrote on the board her name.  
'Hello. My name is Rosebud Carmelita Lluvia Feliz Garcia-Juarez. But you can call me Rosie. If I like you.' she looked expectantly at the class, who looked quite shocked and, just a few of them, scared.  
'I am Dominican but also from Oregon, am fluent-'  
'Yeah, and I'm from the moon!' shouted Cartman from the second row. He must have regretted what he had said, because he went red afterwards. Rosebud smirked. Time to go in for the kill.  
'Am fluent in several different languages, and am currently living with a certain Eric Theodore Cartman.'  
The whole room gasped, including the teacher. Cartman looked outraged.  
How did she find out my second name?! he thought-shouted. Nobody knows my second name, not even those dirty, sneaking rats for friends I have...  
Rosebud flicked her hair behind her head, looking quite triumphant. But, as soon as she opened her mouth, the classroom door blew open and a spiky, blond-headed boy riding a skateboard rode in. A few of the girls at the back of the class squealed. This dude was obviously popular with the girls.  
'Bart Simpson! Just what do you think you are doing?' shouted the teacher.  
'Oh, nothing, Mrs Garrison! Just turning up for school, like any normal kid.  
'On a skateboard?!'  
Bart smirked. 'Oh, dear, Mrs Garrison. You haven't really caught up yet, have you? No. This isn't what I have planned. I have something so blood- curdling, you-gurt will not believe your eyes!' *  
Mrs Garrison strode over to the door, which had magically closed. She opened it, but then wished she hadn't. A creamy mixture of ice-cream, yogurt and cream washed over her like a tidal wave. It flooded the classroom, coating most of the students in a yellow cream. Wendy Testaburger burst into tears, spotting the majority of it in her hair.  
Bart burst into peals of laughter, rolling on the floor laughing.  
Mrs Garrison just stood there. Still holding the door handle, she seemed frozen to the spot. The class held their breath. They knew what would happen.  
Slowly, but steadily, Mrs Garrison turned around to face the class. She wiped the gooey mixture from her glasses lenses.  
'Children,' she said, calmly. 'Collect up your books, get your coats and anything else you need, and go home.'  
'But why, Mrs Garrison?' asked Bebe, who, it seemed, was untouched by the wave.  
Mrs Garrison smiled sourly. 'Just go. We will phone your parents when you are back at school. Now go. All of you. Except-' she said, as students began to get out of their seats. 'Bart Simpson.'  
Bart, who, just 1minute ago had looked as if he owned the world, suddenly looked like a rabbit trapped in the gaze of a large wolf. He knew he had gone too far.  
'You've done it now, Barty-boy.' whispered Cartman as he walked past Bart.  
'You're dead meat, man.' said Kyle.  
'Uh-oh, you're in trooouble!' muffled Kenny.  
'Seriously, dude. You've got no chance.' said Stan. He looked round at Lisa. 'Come on, Lis! I gotta return a book about Africa to the library. We can pick something out together, if you want.'  
Bart flinched. He was the only one who ever called Lisa "Lis".  
After the last kid left the classroom (Butters), Mrs Garrison shut the door behind him. She turned to face Bart.

'Let's you and me have a talk, friend.' she said.

_At the Cartman's..._

Cartman lay on his bed in his PJ's. He was surrounded by a mountain of Ben+Jerry's Triple Chocolate Brownie ice-cream tubs, and watching Terrance and Phillip. His mother was out getting some groceries, and Rosebud was calling Kyle on the house-phone.  
'Who would want to phone up that dirty Jew rat anyway?' he asked himself, before whooping with laughter at the TV. 'Oh, awesome!'  
The doorbell rang. Cartman continued to watch TV.  
Ding-dong.  
Cartman cursed under his breath and got up from his seat, moaning under the strain it was putting on his large stomach. He waddled to his bedrrom door and went down the stairs.  
Ding-dong.  
'Shut the hell up, son of a-'  
He opened the door and found Lisa there.  
'-b***h .'  
Lisa raised her eyebrows. 'Hello to you too.' she said. 'I was just wondering if you wanted to help save the bowhead whale? Stan and I are going round everyone's houses in the neighbourhood to find someone who cares. Will you help?'  
Cartman just looked at her, and burst out laughing.  
'Bwa-ha-ha ha ha ha! You- you aren't-' he saw Lisa's face. 'Oh my god, you're serious, aren't you?' Lisa nodded.  
'Well, Lisa. This is what I think of your little speech.' he held up his middle finger at Lisa. Lisa looked horrified.  
Just then, a force pushed Cartman aside. He looked up, and saw Rosebud.  
'Don't worry. I'll help the whales. How much?' she asked.  
'Five dollars, minimum.' said Lisa, quite shocked.  
Rosebud took out a full purse and rooted around in it. 'Have a twenty.' she said, handing over the note. Lisa stared at the little piece of paper.  
'Go on!' she said.  
Lisa took the note and put it in her coat pocket.  
'Thank you...' she said. She then turned and ran down the street.  
Rosebud smirked and strutted up the stairs. Cartman followed her with his eyes, and behind her back, flipped her off.

_The Simpson household..._

Bart snuck along the corridor. He pressed his ear to the door, listening intently. He detected no sound.  
He pushed open the door and stepped inside. Her room was neat and tidy. In her room was the bookcase. In the bookcase was that small leather book that held so much information. He went to it, slid the entire Angelica Button and Harry Potter series over, and found it. It had moved places since the last time he read it.  
He knew he had to be quick. Lisa would be back any minute from her Save the Bowhead Whales campaign.  
He took the book from its spot, and once again opened it from the page marked with the butterfly bookmark.

_Dear log,_  
_ Stan is so sweet! Yesterday he came round to my house and asked if I wanted to go to a movie. We went to see 'Lincoln' together. He is just as politically concerned as I am! Afterwards we went to Shakey's and got a vegetarian pizza between us. He's vegetarian too! We talked loads. He told me this story about him, Kyle, Eric and Butters. Apparently he found out where veal comes from and saved all these little calves from being slaughtered. ** He got really ill though afterwards and Kyle had to hatch an escape plan to get the calves out of Stan's room. To this day he has been vegetarian._

Bart turned the page to the next entry.

_Dear log,_  
_ It is Sunday. I have nothing to do. I've read all my Angelica Button books and there is not one book in the library I haven't read. I think I will call Stan and see what he is up to._  
_-_  
_His mom answered the phone. He is a bit sick. I think I will draw something for him. I hear he likes dogs. He has a dog called Sparky, but he is a bit...gay. And he plays bass too! Not the dog, Stan._  
_You know what? I think I might be beginning to-_

Bart had no time to read the rest, because he heard the front door slam shut and Lisa's cheery greetings to her parents. Bart flung the book back into its hiding place. He stumbled out of the door and ran down the hall into his own room. He flew to his desk, sat down and pulled the first book he lay his eyes on towards him, and pretended to read. But he had many, many thoughts flying around his head.  
Why is Lisa so obsessed with this guy?  
Does she like him?  
Why were they sepnding so much time together?  
Lisa checked in on Bart as she came up the stairs to her room.  
'Hi Bart,' she said. She wandered into the room, apparently unconciously. 'What are you doing?'  
Bart just raised his eyebrows. 'I'm reading-' he caught sight of the cover of his book, '-Advanced Physics?!' he threw the book across the room.  
Lisa dodged the flying book and looked at Bart.  
'You must have been pretty bored up here.'  
'Nah.'  
'What were you really doing?'  
Bart turned away from her, secretly looking around the room for inspiration. He spotted a very thick book with a red and gold cover. It was captioned the words "Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix". Perfect.  
'Well, uh, don't tell anyone Lis, but I was actually reading some Harry Potter. I knew you'd be all snotty about me reading a real book if you found out... so I pretended to be interested in-' he shivered '- Advanced Physics.'  
Lisa looked at him as if he was very strange. 'Well, okay. If you want to borrow any of my books, you know you only have to ask, right?'  
'Right.'  
'Well, goodnight.'  
'Night, Lis.'  
Lisa walked out of Bart's room and into her own. She changd out of her clothes, put her night-dress on, and climbed into bed. She reached over to her bedside table and picked up an Angelica Button book.  
And while she turned those pages, little did she know that another book was lying opened on the floor of her bedroom, marked by a butterfly bookmark, seemingly reading it's pages to the old, tired house.

_**Yay! I did it! i actually finished a chapter on the exact date I said I would!**_

_***Totally terrible, I know. I just needed something out of the ordinary. **_  
_****This episode is called "Fun with Veal". I suggest you check it out. **_  
_**well, until next time readers!**_


	7. Jealousy Is Not Attractive

**Hah! **  
**I bet you all thought I was dead, didn't ya? But I really am sooooooooooooooooooooooooo sorry for the wait.**  
**Okay, so Imma get on with this chapter. First, I want to give a shout out to MeridiaParcumArcanity, rampIsmike and hi hi 1234. Thank you all for your kind reviews!**

'I know, right? So I said to Gretel, "Is that a bag or a dead raccoon?"'  
The girls laughed. It was their annual Girls Night In night, and boy, were they living it. Wendy, Red, Rebecca and Annie were all sitting in a circle on the floor. They were all in their nightclothes. Romantic movies, chocolate boxes, glossy celebrity magazines and make-up tins were littered on the floor.  
'Seriously, Gretel Juzkaistonsin is such a geek. Last week I saw her reading a book. Not because she had to, but for fun! It didn't even have pictures! OMG, I was like, "What are you, a middle aged Victorian?"' said Rebecca. The girls giggled again.  
Bebe came into the room, in her nightdress. She sat down with the others and broke off a large piece of Dairy Milk Super Melty Super Crunch. Without any regard for etiquette, she stuffed the entire thing in her mouth.  
'So what about you, Bebe?'  
Bebe looked up. 'Huh?' she said, her mouth coated in chocolate.  
'What's going on in your life? You know, boys, parents, the kind of thing normal girls talk about?' giggled Annie.  
Bebe swallowed and shrugged. 'Uh... I dunno, just, ya know, hangin' around...'  
The whole room fell silent.  
'W-what did you say?' asked Rebecca, her eyes wide.  
'Uh... I dunno, just-'  
'No, she means what the HELL are you saying?!' shrieked Wendy. She ran out of the room and came back a few minutes later, a cup of icy cold water in her hand. Without warning, she tipped the entire contents over Bebe.  
Bebe shrieked. 'Dude!' she cried. 'What the heck?!'  
The girls screamed at the word "dude". Wendy grabbed Bebe by the wrists and pulled her up to face her. Shaking her from side to side, she screamed at her.  
'Bebe Stevens! Girls do not say the word "dude"! What's happened to you? You've been hanging around with boys again, haven't you? Haven't you?'  
Bebe's mouth was an O shape. She uttered the two words so quietly that mice wouldn't have heard it.  
'Lisa Simpson.'  
'What?'  
'I said: Lisa Simpson!'  
Wendy's mouth gaped open. She released Bebe so quickly that Bebe fell to the ground, Wendy being her only form of support. Wendy turned away from the group, who, while this whole fiasco had been happening, had simply watched, eyes wider than their mouths could open.  
Wendy put her head in her hands. Just then, Mrs Testaburger called up the stairs.  
'Girls? Are you alright up there?'  
Behind her hand-mask, Wendy mouthed the word 'No', but in reality called back that everybody was fine, when, evidently, they were not. Bebe had purple bruises forming around her wrists and Wendy had buried her face in her hands. Even behind her hands, Wendy's voice was clearly audible.

' She's taken our grades. She's taken our guys. And now, she's taken our girlfriend. We have to do something,' she said. 'We have to get rid of Lisa Simpson for good.'

Meanwhile, at Fat- I mean, Cartman's house...

Rosebud flipped the channels. Every channel she turned to, Billy Mayes was advertising something. She was in her "borrowed" red dressing gown that she had "found" at the back of the "bathroom door". Maybe a few too many bunny ears there...  
She was the only one in the house. Cartman had gone out to torment the neighbourhood cats, and Mr Cartman was at her yoga class. Rosebud had suggested it, as she figured Mrs Cartman would need it, dealing with a son like Eric...  
Finally, Rosebud found Comedy Central. Its was airing a very old episode of Friends. Rosebud looked at the screen with uninterest. For once, on a Saturday night, there was nothing on. Rosebud had eaten everything in the fridge, read every magazine, and scanned the TV guide endlessly.  
Finally, she decided to call Kyle. She knew he would be up. She just knew it.  
She reached for the phone on the coffee table and dialled the number. She knew it off by heart.  
The other end took a little while to answer, but picked up at the 7th ring.  
'Hello?'  
Rosebud was confused. Kyle's voice was muffled, like he had something in his mouth.  
'Who is this?'  
'Kenny McCormick. Who the hell is this?'  
'A weirdo.'  
'What?'  
'Never mind, bay-beeee. So, is Kyle there?'  
'Yeah, one sec...' Rosebud heard Kenny yell across the room to, what must have been, Kyle. Rosebud heard a lot of cursing and static, a clear indication that the reciever was being passed to another person.  
'Yeah?'  
'Hey, chico. I'm super bored. Can I come over to your place?'  
There was a silence at the other end of the phone.  
'Uhh... well, Lisa Simpson is here already, but if you want to...'  
'Lisa Simpson?'  
'Yeah, you know her, right? Blonde hair, greyish-blue eyes, wears jeans and a dude's t-shirt...'  
Rosebud figured it out. That girl that had the starfish shaped hair and hung out with Cartman and co. Just then, the front door slammed shut and the extremely round silhouette of Cartman rose over Rosebud. He looked at the empty cartons of everything and glared at her.  
'You... you've eaten everything.'  
'Yep. Now, if you don't mind, oy a casa de Kyle. Buenas noches!'  
'What the...'  
'Oops, got to get dressed...' said Rosebud, looking down at her nightdress.  
She ran upstairs, and was down again within minutes. She wore a white t-shirt, cherry overtop, black combat trousers, black high-top converse and an army jacket. She had fingerless netted gloves on her hands and a red hairband with a black rose on it. Cartman thought for a nanosecond that she actually looked quite good. Like I said, a nanosecond.  
'Buenas noches, idiota!'  
'Vous êtes un jeune fou, tu sais ça? Je pourrais vous appeler quelque chose de bien pire, mais je ne veux pas. Je suis trop gentil pour ça ...'  
'Aha, French?'  
'Yes. It comes in useful. Now get out of here. I'm ordering a pizza...'  
Rosebud flipped her hair and walked out of the house. She had a good feeling about tonight...

The Simpson's household...

'Bonjour, monsieur. Je pense que vous avez perdu vos ... ... Un pantalon?'  
'Good, good. Now, say, "Would you like a Twizzly Pop, ma'am?'  
'Voulez-vous un Twizzly Pop, madame?'  
'Good, Bart! You know, ever since we moved here, you've been getting better at your schoolwork! There haven't been so many incidents at school either. You were only sent home twice this week!'  
'Yeah, I know...'  
Bart fiddled with his pencil and looked at his French homework. It was late, and Lisa wasn't back. It was late, and not one sheet of homework was in the bin, Santa's Little Helper's mouth or the cat's litter box.  
'I actually think that this move was good for the kids. Maggie has been sleeping sound every night for the past week.' said Marge. 'And Bart is actually getting D's instead of F's for his assignments. And Lisa has finally made some good quality friends...'  
Bart stood up so abruptly his chair tipped over. Marge started.  
'Bart?'  
'I... I'm just tired. Can I go to bed?'  
Marge looked at Homer, who was now conked out on the couch, his can of Cheapo's beer still in his hand.  
'...Sure. If you want... goodnight, Bart.' Marge kissed Bart's spiky head. Bart sloped up the stairs, as Marge looked on worriedly. Finally, she turned back to the news.

-

_**Sorry this chappie's so short, guys. My fingers are stiff and I couldn't resist watching some Fred videos when i should have been writing! Please, I NEEED MOOOOOORE REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEVIEWS! Goodnight!**_  
_**Btw, look up the French and Spanish terms you no understand, yes?**_


	8. Ooh La-la

_**Once upon a time, a man drew a mouse. His creation enchanted children all over the world. This chapter, that man...**_  
**WILL BE SPINNING IN HIS GRAVE**_**.**_  
_**That was an extract from the Bigger, Longer and Uncut trailer. I strongly suggest you check it out.**_

_**Well, in 5 days it will officailly be Spring! Its a great season to be writing a fanfic. So much life. **_  
_**Okay, once again for pointless reasons, I am listening to Kerli "Tea Party" while writing this. **_  
_**Adios!**_  
_**Plus, I am REALLY P.O-ed. My bratty little sister got me banned from South Park for the rest of my teenage years. So if I get things wrong (say, I accidentally say that Cartman HASN'T got a heart of stone,) you can thank "bogoff" for that. That is my little sister's username. Tells you a lot about her, doesn't it?)**_  
_**Well, goodbye world. I am no longer connected to you by means of grotesque humor...**_

Rosebud shivered and pulled her coat closer around her. It seemed like it snowed all year around in South Park. She pressed the doorbell and waited. Nobody answered. She rung it again. A large red headed woman in a blue suit answered.  
'Sorry, young lady, we don't have any rooms spare.' she said. A bearded man with a Yarmulke appeared behind her.  
'Who is it, Sheila?'  
'Just a girl, Gerald.' They were talking as if Rosebud was a deaf girl on their doorstep. She was relieved when she heard Kyle's voice from behind them.  
'Its just Rosebud, Mom. I told you she was coming over, remember?'  
Kyle's mother looked bewildered. This was the girl Kyle was always talking about? She examined her from chocolate brown head to high-top toe.  
'Very well. You can come in. But just so you know, its Bubby's bedtime soon.'  
'Mom!'  
'Sorry, sorry!'  
Kyle motioned for Rosebud to follow him. She, once again, shook the snow out of her hair and followed Kyle up the stairs.

His room was relatively tidy. There was a Go Cows! poster on the wall, books in his bookcase, and a number of awards for a number of different subjects. Rosebud also noticed that that girl Kyle said was also invited was sprawled on the floor, playing video games. Rosebud looked closer and saw she was playing Call of Duty.  
Kyle dug in his bookcase and pulled out a board game.  
'Yahtzee?' he asked. Rosebud smiled and nodded.

At Cartman's...

Ring ring ring!

Cartman didn't move.

Ring ring ring!

Cartman didn't move.

RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII IIIIIIIIIIIING!

Cartman screamed and got up. He picked up the reciever.  
'WHAT?!'  
'Hello, Fatboy.'  
'Aight! Don't call me fat!'  
'Whatever.' said Wendy.  
'What do you want?'  
'Let me ask one thing; do you find that Lisa Whatzit cool?'  
'What has that got to do with anything?'  
'Nothing, Fat*ss. Now, answer my question.'  
'No. She's a stupid little-'  
'I get your point. And, I can't believe I'm saying this, but...'  
Cartman was interested now. 'Saying what?'  
'...I agree with...you.'  
Cartman smiled. 'Would you excuse me for a moment, Wendy?' he asked, very politely. He put the reciever down and did a crazy "happy dance" around the room. Then, regaining composture, he picked the reciever again and said in his sweetest voice, 'And what is is that only I can assist you with?'  
'Well, actually, you're the only one who agrees. So it was kind of a one-way option...  
'See, the thing is, she's hypnotised Bebe into saying things like "dude" and "man", and eventually had to lock her in my Mom's closet with a bottle of water and copy of Girl magazine.'  
'Uh huh...' said Cartman, picking his nails.  
'So, seeing as you are a psychopath and everything... I was wondering if you could help us with it?'  
'With what?'  
'Getting rid of her.'  
Cartman raised an eyebrow. 'Okay. But just so you know, she's been hanging around with Stan a lot more than the others lately-'  
He winced as Wendy screamed down the phone, 'WHAT?! THAT LITTLE-!'  
'Language, miss. In case you've forgotten, you and Stan aren't a couple anymore.'  
Wendy sighed. 'I guess not.'  
'So. What are we going to do about her?'  
'Well... we could trick her into jumping off her own roof?'  
'And I thought blondes were dumb*. No, we're dealing with a straight-A student here.'  
Cartman heard Wendy clicking her tongue at the other end of the phone. Suddenly, he had an idea.  
'Wendy, I've got it. Come over to mine, bring the others and I'll explain...'

Rosebud waved goodbye to Kyle as she stepped down the front door steps. Mrs Broflovski was staring at Rosebud's abnormally high shoes and shaking her head.  
It had been a relatively fun night. Kyle and her had played about 5 rounds of Yahtzee, and then Lisa had challenged them both to a full-on competition of Call of Duty. Rosebud had gotten to know Lisa a little bit better. She told such amusing stories!  
Rosebud knocked on the door of the Cartman residence. Like at the Broflovski's, nobody answered. Rosebud sighed and lifted up the doormat. She unlocked the door with the spare key and shivered.  
She took her shoes off carefully and placed them in line with Cartman's. She suspected he was asleep. It was gone midnight, after all.  
After hanging up her jacket and mildly cleaning the room, she tip-toed up the stairs. Suddenly, she stopped.  
Voices.  
They were coming from Cartman's room. She edged towards the door and pressed her ear against it. She could just about make out the voices.

'Are you sure?'  
'Positive. Her brother built a treehouse in their backyard last week.'  
'So?'  
'So, her parents are going grocery shopping on Tuesday. That is the day our school has a teacher's meeting, so we'll have a day's vacation. They will leave the house at precisely 12pm, midday. Rebecca will be on lookout if they come back. and will notify me on this walkie-talkie.'  
'Right.' Rosebud recognised that voice. There was obviously more than two people in that room.  
'Once the clock strikes five past twelve, we will knock on the door. Lisa will answer-or her brother, and if so, we will ask to see her- and ask if she would like to come play in her brother's treehouse.'  
'And you really think she'll come play with us the way you treated her?'  
'Well, you weren't exactly nice to her either, were you?'  
'Point taken.'  
'Right. So, when she is up there, we will confront her. Tell her to back off. Maybe she'll move back to Whatzittown or wherever she came from.'  
The voices stopped. Rosebud had stepped on a creaky floorboard. There were quick footsteps.  
Cartman stood in his bedroom doorway. He saw no one.

_**Sorry its so short, guys. Its late and my mum is bound to knock on the door any minute and tell me to get off the computer.**_  
_**I hope this fic turns into the kind of thing I have always dreamed of writing.**_


	9. Oral Reports and Fashion Disasters

**Well, howdy ho!**  
**I AM SO FREAKIN SORRY FOR THE WAIT!**  
**Its just school and family errands. But, its Easter now and I am sooooo glad I have NO homework. Though, actually, I don't do it when there is any...**  
**On a completely unrelated note...**  
**CHAPTER NINE ALREADY! I can't believe it! Its taken quite a while, but I have managed to get through the days knowing that somewhere out in the world, people like MY writing!**  
**Ooh, has to be quick, I have approx. 35 mins before I have to get off the family computer.**  
**DISCLAIMER; I DO NOT OWN SOUTH PARK, SIMPSONS OR ROSEBUD.**  
**I (gammit, I love saying pointless things, don't I?) am listening to Kerli's "Walking On Air".**

'And that concludes my report on "Why Kids Should Not Wear Designer Clothes". Thank you.'  
The class applauded. Lisa sat down, satisfied. She could not get through a day without writing a report on something. She put her papers away and looked at Mrs Garriso, who was reading Women's Weekly and had her feet up on the desk. The class was silent.  
Mrs Garrison continued to read her magazine.  
The class continued to stare.  
Mrs Garrison flicked the page.  
The class fidgeted.  
Finally, Bebe put her hand up. Mrs Garrison must have heard the swish that occured, because she looked up.  
'Oh, that was great, Lisa. A+++, as usual.' she said. Wendy glowered behind Lisa's back. 'Now, who's next?'  
Red put up her hand. Mrs Garrison shrugged and hid her face behind her magazine. 'Whatever, Red.'  
Wendy, Red and Bebe got up, and walked to the front of the room. Wendy fit her electronic booklet into the projector and Bebe took a couple sheets of paper out of her folder.  
Red cleared her throat. 'Why Tomboys Should Not Recieve The Attention Real Girls Do', by Red Tucker, Wendy Testaburger and Bebe Stevens.' Wendy glanced at Lisa, who was paying little attention. She gritted her teeth, and carried on reading. Red clicked the projector, and a picture of a girl in a tight pink shirt, mini-skirt and heels, and a girl with a loose tee, ripped jeans and sneakers.  
'Which is the real girl, in your opinion?'  
Jimmy put up his hand. 'Yes, Jim?'  
'In my opinion, th-th-the-the chick in the jeans.'  
Red glared at him. 'Very well, its your opinion.'  
Lisa put up her hand. Red ignored her.  
'Okay. So, for those of you who think that dressing in boy's clothes, hanging out with boys, doing boy things is right for a girl, you are so wrong.' said Bebe.  
Rosebud put up her hand.  
'Yes?' said Bebe.  
' Why are you so narrow-minded?'  
'Excuse me?'  
'Why,' repeated Rosebud, 'is it so wrong for a girl to want to dress for comfort, not style?'  
'Because, clothes are meant to be flaunted, not worn just because the wearer can't be bothered. You might as well just put a rag over yourself.'  
'Cool,' muffled Kenny. the guys sniggered.  
'Ha ha, Kenny.' said Red.  
'Hey, we're not in the circus, you can laugh properly.'  
Everyone giggled.  
'And that is the end of our presentation. Thank you for listening.'  
A few feeble claps came from the back of the room. Cartman booed.  
As per usual.

At the Simpsons household...

Homer looked at list of things Marge had set him to complete.  
'Let's see,' he said, scanning the list. 'Paint the walls...'

Scene switches to Homer getting on the ladder, and falling off again.

He returns to the list, a bandage on his head.  
'Now, that can wait till later. Now, how about... fitting the roof tiles? No, no, too much work. Uh, mowing the lawn?'

Scene switches to Homer trying to start up the lawn-mower, and flying all the way around the yard with it.

'Okay, not too much damage. Just a broken arm and a wire up my nose. I hope it doesn't touch my brain-ain-ain-ain. Don't want any brain damage-amage-amage-amage...'  
he shook his head and looked at the list.  
'Uh... , strip the beds...'

Scene switches to Homer getting tangled in the bedcovers.

'Well, thats a day's work,' he said. 'Now to wash away everything I have learnt with my favorite companions, TV and beer.'  
He went to the fride and opened it. There were no beers.  
'Do'h!' he said. He went back to the sitting room and sat on the couch. 'Well, TV, beer bailed out on us, so I guess it will be just you and me again...'

At the school...

'Mrs Piggy Simpson, we assure you that you'll do fine.'  
'Yes, Principal Victoria is right, m'kay? Our courses are completely foolproof. You'll be teaching these children fine art in a matter of no time.'  
Marge smiled. 'Thank you. But, just out of interest, what happened to the old art teacher?'  
Mr Mackey and Principal Victoria looked at eachother.  
'We- we don't really like to talk about it. But, hey-ho! Now, I'm sure that will be fine for the basics. Your first class is just in Art Room 3. Good luck!' said Mr Mackey.  
Marge nodded and walked down the hall. She opened the door and just saw Bart climb over about 3 desks as she entered. The class rushed to their seats. Marge went to the front of the room and smiled.  
'Hello, class. My name is Mrs Simpson. I am going to be your art teacher this year. Now, I want to get one thing out of the way before we begin...'  
Bart crossed his fingers and muttered under his breath. 'Don't tell them you're my mom, please, please don't tell them you're my mom...'  
'I am Bart and Lisa Simpsons' mother.'  
'Do'h!'  
A few of the kids snickered. Bart groaned and thumped his head on the desk. How would he ever live this one down?

**Sorry its so short guys! Next chapter longer if you Rand R!**!


	10. Its Too Cold Outside, For Angels To Fly

_**Well, here it is guys.**_  
_**The chapter I have been waiting to write since the day I thought of it. Which, now that I think about it, was about a week ago.**_  
_**But I warn you. Those who have an emotional attachment to any of these characters should either come out of this window now, or bear the horror that lies ahead.**_  
_**By the way, for those of you who noticed the "Piggy" and "pooopooopooo"m on the last chapter, that was my mega-pests of siblings. My dad is trying to think of a fitting punishment for them. I have edited it, so you won't see it anymore.**_  
_**And by the way, you may recall some of this scene from one of my earlier chapters. Spot the difference! (You don't have to, it was just a suggestion)**_  
_**And by the way, there is a poll on my profile. We've seen the sparks fly between Rosebud and Kyle, and the beginning of them between Rosebud and Cartman. But who would YOU rather Rosebud end up with? Would you like the sweet smell of sassy-Jewish (ish) love in the air, or would you prefer her to be partner in crime with Cartman? Or maybe you want her to be a single-pringle? You decide!**_  
_**Disclaimer: I no own Simpsons, South Park, Rosebud or the lyrics to the song in this chapter. The name Sarah is something i came up with at the top of my head. She is not actually a character in the Simpsons or South Park**_  
_**By the way, the song in this chapter is called "Eighteen" by Ed Sheeran. I suggest you play it in the background while you read the lyrics :D. Enjoy!**_

For Bart, the week could not have been worse.  
Besides not being the school bad-boy anymore, he had to face the additional humiliation of having a mother for an art teacher. Nobody took him seriously anymore. He was a laughing stock.  
That was why he faked a headache and stayed home. Lisa would bring home his homework (unfortunately) and Marge would fill him in on what he had missed. Meanwhile, Homer was looking after him.  
And the nightmare began.  
Bart looked at his digital clock. It read 11.49. Now Lisa was at school, this was the perfect time to strike. But he didn't move. He was done with Lisa's secrets. If she wanted to keep something from him, that was her problem. He kept plenty of things from her.  
He must have fallen asleep at some point, because he wasn't in his bed. He was floating in space. All around him there were the faces of his friends, family... and Cartman.  
They were saying things like, "_Stupid!_", "_Momma's Boy!_" and "_Attention Seeker!_". Bart hid his face in his hands and tried to block out the sounds, but even though he tried in vain, the sounds kept getting louder and louder...  
Until he heard Homer at the door.  
'Boy, you've been in there for ages. You want to go to Krustyburger?'  
Bart rubbed the sleep from his eyes and looked at the clock. 13.18. The dream seemed to have lasted a lot longer than that.  
'Uh, no thanks, Homer. I still don't feel too good. Maybe later.' he said.  
'Oh. Well, thats okay, cuz I already went. You missed out. Sorry boy!' There were chewing sounds coming from outside Bart's bedroom door. And if he wasn't mistaken, Homer was eating a Clogger. Twelve pounds of artery-cloggin' goodness.  
Bart heard Homer "Mmmm" in appreciation, and finally leave. He sighed, and got out of his bed. He strolled around the now familiar room, flicking his old toys and sighing at his ripped Itchy and Scratchy poster. He recalled a... ahem... conversation he had with a certain fat psychopath the day before.  
_**-Flashback-**_  
_**Bart ran out of the class as soon as class finished. He heard his mother's shouts from behind him, but he didn't turn around. He streaked along the hall, ran to his locker and dug out an Itchy and Scratchy comic. He slammed his locker door shut, pushed past a group of giggling girls and ran to the swing set. There, he slumped, opened his comic and began reading, trying to catch his breath.**_  
_**But, no sooner had he arrived, a huge shadow cast over him. He looked up, and saw the grotesquely large silhouette of none other than Eric Cartman. He frowned down at him and knocked the comic out of Bart's hands.**_  
_**'What the hell, man!' said Bart, P.O-ed. He bent over to pick it up, and Cartman pushed him onto the ground. Bart cried out in pain, and a few people looked around.**_  
_**Cartman picked up Bart's comic and sneered at the cover.**_  
_**'What the hell is Itchy and Scratchy?' he demanded, flicking through the pages.**_  
_**Bart jumped up and snatched the comic back.**_  
_**'It was the most popular kid's cartoon back in Springfield. Not that Lawrence and Perry stuff you watch.'**_  
_**'Terrance and Phillip!' corrected Cartman. He looked at Bart with the utmost disgust. 'You know, I used to think you were a fiesty little kid, but now even your baby sister is cooler than you!' He motioned to the corner of the playground, where Lisa, Stan, Kyle, Kenny and Butters were huddled, cheering.**_  
_**'Well, if that's the case, I'm glad. Lisa is hangin' out with people who actually like her. When those guys were around you, all you did was rip on them. They hated ya.'**_  
_**Cartman's already fat face seemed to swell with anger, and go scarlet.**_  
_**'That's not true! They worshipped me!' he yelled. He advanced towards Bart, and pushed him over. Bart just looked at Cartman. Cartman was poised, fists up, flabby legs apart. For a second, Bart felt sorry for him. If this was how he made himself cool, (and it didn't seem to be working) he really was the scum that Bart thought he was.**_  
_**So he just got up and walked away.**_  
-End of Flashback-  
Bart could've kicked himself for not teaching Cartman a lesson.

After school...

Stan and Lisa walked into the cafe. Lisa had specifically chosen this one, as it was quiet and clean, the perfect place for studying.  
Stan went to get some green tea, and Lisa carried both their books to a corner table. She sat down and pulled out her equipment, and began to study.  
Stan came back with the tea and sat opposite Lisa. He didn't open his books, but bit his nails. He looked around the cafe. And elderly woman and two builders were then only ones in the small cafe. He glanced at Lisa, who was buried in her books. She looked up at Stan and smiled. He gave a weak smile back. Lisa looked back at her books and took a sip of her tea.  
This continued for a few minutes. Finally, Stan cracked.  
'Lisa, there's something I need to talk to you about.' he said. Lisa looked up from her books and gave him a quizical look. 'Yes, Stan?'  
'Uh...' said Stan. He scratched the back of his neck. 'I've noticed how... close we've become over the past few weeks. And, the... little things you've hinted.'  
'I don't get you. What are you trying to say?' asked Lisa, closing her book on Great Women in History.  
'Well, you seem to think that I...' Stan let his voice trail off.  
'Stan,' said Lisa. She reached over the boiling hot cups of tea and held his hand. 'You know you can tell me anything. What's wrong?'  
Stan sighed and released his hands.  
'There was a girl. Her name was Sarah. I met her two days ago at the book convention.'  
Lisa straightened up. She was trying to remain strong, but Stan sensed the upset in her voice. 'The book convention you said you couldn't attend. The one you "couldn't" attend because your Grandma's birthday was on the same day.'  
'Yeah...'  
'And?'  
'And what?'  
'This Sarah. She was obviously more interesting than me. What did she have that I didn't? A huge house? Perfect complexion? No braces?'  
'No!' said Stan. 'Lisa, listen. I've seen these hints you're giving me. The "meet-me" notes, the secret smiles, the sudden interest in football. I know now.'  
Lisa felt like she was floating.  
'I just don't feel the same way.'  
These words hit Lisa like a tidal wave. She felt a lump in her throat and her eyes stung. She couldn't stop the tears coming.  
'Listen. You're a great girl. Smart, pretty, funny. I just don't think I'm the one for you.'  
'And this "Sarah" is? She's the one?' cried Lisa.  
'Lisa! I've known Sarah for years! Since kindergarten. We were inseperable. Then she moved to Seattle. We wrote a few times, but its like always, isn't it? A friend moves away, and you think you can make it work. But it's never the same. '  
'I know.' said Lisa. 'I know...'  
'But when I saw her at the convention, it felt like a piece of my heart was back in its place. We talked, and I found out that she had a boyfriend. Gary, his name was. He lived next door to her-'  
'Yes, yes, Stan!' cried Lisa. 'Spare me the details! All I want to know is... do you love her?'  
Stan bowed his head. For a nanosecond it reminded Lisa of Bart being caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Finally, Stan said, 'I never stopped.'  
Lisa got up, knocking her chair over in the process and spilling her tea. She collected up her books and said, 'Well, at least now I know where I stand in this situation.' Without looking back, she ran out of the cafe.

_3 hours later..._

Stan sat in his room with his trusty old guitar. He plucked the notes for a while, and started on a song he'd known for a while.

_White lips, pale face_  
_Breathing in the snowflakes_  
_Burnt lungs, sour taste_  
_Light's gone, day's end_  
_Struggling to pay rent_  
_Long nights, strange men_

_And they say she's in the Class A Team_  
_Stuck in her daydream_  
_Been this way since eighteen_  
_But lately her face seems_  
_Slowly sinking, wasting_  
_Crumbling like pastries_  
_And they scream_  
_The worst things in life come free to us_  
_Cos we're just under the upper hand_  
_And go mad for a couple grams_  
_And she don't want to go outside tonight_  
_And in a pipe she flies to the Motherland_  
_Or sells love to another man_

_It's too cold outside_  
_For angels to fly_  
_Angels to fly_

_Ripped gloves, raincoat_  
_Tried to swim and stay afloat_  
_Dry house, wet clothes_  
_Loose change, bank notes_  
_Weary-eyed, dry throat_  
_Call girl, no phone_

_And they say she's in the Class A Team_  
_Stuck in her daydream_  
_Been this way since eighteen_  
_But lately her face seems_  
_Slowly sinking, wasting_  
_Crumbling like pastries_  
_And they scream_  
_The worst things in life come free to us_  
_Cos we're just under the upper hand_  
_And go mad for a couple grams_  
_And she don't want to go outside tonight_  
_And in a pipe she flies to the Motherland_  
_Or sells love to another man_

_It's too cold outside_  
_For angels to fly_  
_An angel will die_  
_Covered in white_  
_Closed eye_  
_Hope for a better life_  
_This time, we'll fade out tonight_  
_Straight down the line_

_And they say she's in the Class A Team_  
_Stuck in her daydream_  
_Been this way since eighteen_  
_But lately her face seems_  
_Slowly sinking, wasting_  
_Crumbling like pastries_  
_And they scream_  
_The worst things in life come free to us_  
_And we're all under the upper hand_  
_And go mad for a couple grams_  
_And we don't want to go outside tonight_  
_And in a pipe we fly to the Motherland_  
_Or sells love to another man_

_It's too cold outside_  
_For angels to fly_  
_Angels to fly_  
_To fly, fly_  
_Angels to fly_  
_To fly, to fly_  
_Or angels to die_

He felt a tear run down his cheek as he hit the last note, which died away as the salty droplet hit the oak of his guitar.

_Meanwhile, at the Simpsons..._

Bart played his music. Nothin' like a good beat of heavy metal to drown away his-

He heard a scream.

He ran out of his room, down the stairs and out the back door.

She was there. Lying motionless at the foot of his treehouse.

He was there. So were the girls he'd run past that morning.

He ran to her. Her innocent little face stared up at him. Her beautiful brown eyes were closed.

They backed away, breathing rapidly. Their backing-away turned to running.

Lisa stayed motionless, barely alive.


	11. Drop Dead

_**Okay guys.**_  
_**I'm pretty much in shock of the last chapter. I didn't even know what I was going to do for it. As I uploaded it, I thought, "What's going to happen to Lisa?" and "Will she live or die?"**_  
_**In this chapter, we'll see what really happens when Lisa Simpson is not around.**_  
_**NOT THAT WAY! I don't know if I will kill her or not. You'll just have to wait and see...**_  
_**I'm evil like that X)**_  
_**By the way, I would like to say a MASSIVE thanks to everyone who reviewed! YOU GUYS ARE THE BEST! I'm sooooooo stoked by the reaction of the last chapter that my hands are trembling as I type this. **_  
_**ANYWAYS, ON VITH ZEES CHAPTER, MON AMIE!**_

* * *

The word that Lisa was in hospital seemed to spread like the Plague around the school.  
Everybody who passed Bart stopped to ask after her. Even those who disliked her, would seem concerned and even shed a few phony tears. Bart hated them for that.  
He could not bring himself to even look at her room. He'd not entered it since the accident. Her place at the table was empty, and nobody spoke. It was like a light in their life had gone out. And it had.  
He'd gone to see her in the hospital the day before.  
'I'm afraid Lisa is very badly injured. She has a broken leg and brain damage, and is currently in a coma.' said the doctor.  
'A _coma_?' cried Marge. 'Most people _never_ wake up from comas! I don't want to lose my angel! My angel...'  
'Brain damage?' asked Homer. 'What, does that mean she'll be a brocolli?'  
'No, Mr Simpson. It means her brain won't function as well as it used to. I gather Lisa was an intellectual child?'  
'Yes, she was. Five-times spelling champion and the only thing that kept Springfield Elementary from being a meaningless old c**pshack.' said Bart.  
'I see.' said the doctor.  
'Marge, would you like to get some coffee?' asked Homer, putting his arm around Marge.  
_'I hate coffee_!' shouted Marge.  
'Okay, okay. How about some fruit cake? You like fruit cake, right?'  
'So did Lisa,' mumbled Bart. Homer and Marge were silent for a minute, and then Marge nodded her head. 'Okay.' she said. Homer led her toward the small cafe while Bart let his eyes wander to the ward Lisa was lying, possibly dying in.

* * *

_At Stan's house..._

Stan lay on his bed, still in his day clothes. His parents stood outside his door, listening.  
'Randy, I think we should do something. Stan hasn't been himself since Lisa's accident.' said Sharon.  
'Well, what do you expect? He grew really close to her, didn't he?'  
'Yes, but...' said Sharon.  
'But what?'  
'If he's like this now... I can't bear to think what he'll be like if... if she doesn't pull through.'  
'I can hear you!' shouted Stan from inside his room.  
'But still. Should we take him to a doctor?' asked Sharon.  
'No. He'll be fine. But, I do think we should take him to the hospital. If there's anyone he needs to see, its Rita.'  
'_Lisa_!'  
'Oh, yeah. Lisa.'  
'Randy,' whispered Sharon, 'Lisa's mother told me the damage. Lisa's in a coma. I just don't think seeing her will help Stan any more than it will help Mr and Mrs Simpson.'  
'Maybe you're right.'  
_'Mom! Dad_! I can frickin' hear you, you know! Stop talking about her and _leave me alone_!'  
So Sharon and Randy sighed and left Stan alone. But as they were going down the stairs, there was a knock on the front door. Sharon went to open it, and found Kyle, Kenny, Butters and Cartman standing on the front step. Kyle and Kenny looked sad and afraid, Butters was staring off in the distance, staring at a squirrel with foam coming out of its mouth. Cartman looked bored, but there was worry in his eyes.  
'Hi, Mrs Marsh. We came to see Stan. Is he here?' asked Kyle.  
'Yes. I can't think of anywhere else he would be. He hasn't moved from his room for days. Come in, out of the cold.'  
Kyle, Kenny, Cartman and Butters all came in and shook the snow out of their hats and hair. 'Please try to get through to him, Kyle. He won't talk to me. He won't even let Sparky in his room. And, ' she said, handing him a tray of food and squash, 'give him this. I would expect he is hungry after all this with Lisa.'  
So they trooped up the stairs to Stan's room, Kyle having to maneuver the tray from Cartman's grasp, who was trying to grab the Twinkie that was on the tray. Butters knocked on the door. There was no answer.  
'Stan? Its us. Please let us in.' said Kyle. Slowly, there was rustling noises coming from inside. Stan's figure emerged from within.  
But he didn't look like Stan anymore. His raven hair was coming out from underneath his hat and his clothes were crumpled. He looked pallid and pale and he had bags under his eyes.  
'Quick, get in. I don't want Mom to think I'm not upset.'  
They all came in. Stan put his hands out when Cartman tried to come in.  
'No way, Fatboy. I don't trust you one little bit. You can stay out here.'  
For once, Cartman didn't argue.

Stan's room was just like it had been when Wendy broke up with him. There were black trash bags covering the windows, so the room appeared dusty and uninviting. His clothes were scattered on the floor, and there were no action figures or posters on his wall. His room looked like it hadn't been used in a long time.  
Stan sat on his bed, while the others looked around. 'Dude,' said Kenny, 'you really are sick.'  
'Sicker than you?' asked Stan.  
'Point taken.' said Kenny.  
'Listen, guys, I appreciate you coming over, and all that, but I just want to be left alone. This really isn't a good time for me.'  
'We noticed,' said Kyle coldly.  
'Kyle, please. Just leave me alone. Butters,' he said. Butters, who was now holding the tray of food, 'leave that here. I'm pretty hungry.'  
Butters understood, and the boys filed out of the room.  
'Nothing.' said Butters to Cartman. 'Wouldn't tell us what happened. I guess he's still a bit shellshocked. I guess, if Lisa doesn't recover, we'll never know what actually happened.'  
'Yeah... never.' said Cartman nervously.  
Nobody noticed his voice wavering.

* * *

_The next day..._  
The argument, that had seemed to have died down between Rosebud and Wendy a few weeks ago, started up again until the bus reached the school.  
Or what used to be the school. Now it was a blazing mass of fire. Mr Mackey, the guidance counselor, was trying to calm everybody down as the kids got off the bus to see what was going on.  
"Students, please line up according to your grade level, m'kay? It turns out that we built the school right in the middle of a dormant volcano, m'kay. It is currently erupting."  
Rosebud was confused. "But- that doesn't make any sense!" Wendy put her hand on the other girl's shoulder.  
"It never does." Mr Mackey was still wasting his time attempting to get everybody organised.  
"-one fatality, fourth-grader Kenneth McCormick." Kenny, very much alive, looked bewildered.  
"What? But I'm not-" A burning piece of school hit him full in the face, setting him ablaze. He ran around for about three seconds and then died. Nobody except Rosebud seemed to care. Wendy explained;  
"It happens all the time. He dies in some horrific way and then comes back alive a couple minutes later." Rosebud shook her head.  
"Be that as it may, we can't just leave him there." She went over to the pile of ashes and gore and orange shreds of fabric, took the black rose she was wearing out of her hair, and neatly placed it just in the middle of the smouldering heap. "See you quite soon, I guess, Kenny." she looked at Wendy. "Any other immortal people I should know of?"  
"Not to my knowledge."  
"Well, then we can't let this happen again." Rosebud raised her hand.  
"Mr Mackey?"  
"Yes, Carmelita? M'kay?" Mr Mackey shouted over the megaphone he was holding. Rosebud blushed and muttered to Wendy;  
"I dunno where he got that from." Then she addressed Mr Mackey again.  
"Instead of lining everybody up, wouldn't it be better to get the f*ck out of here?"

Mr Mackey considered it.  
"Well, I guess it would be safer to get away from this active volcano, m'kay." He spoke to the mass of screaming children. "Children, you have permission to get the f*ck out of here, m'kay. Oh, uh, that last part could have been phrased better, m'kay." They didn't need to be told twice. Within five minutes the crowd had completely dispersed.  
Cartman and Rosebud walked together. The snow that had collected around the school over the past winter had completely melted, revealing withered, sludgy-brown grass. When Cartman almost slipped, Rosebud caught him just in the nick of time, and immediatley regretted it. Her back buckled as she struggled to lift him back on to his own two feet.  
'Thanks,' he muttered, massaging his shoulders. 'So, uh, where are your mom and dad?'  
Rosebud was silent for a moment, and then spoke in what was supposed to be a clear, confident voice, but came out like she'd swallowed barbed wire.  
'My mother and father are in federal prison, if you must know.'  
'Oh. Cool.'  
Rosebud spun around to face Carrtman, and gave him such a glare that he stumbled back on the un-melted grass.  
'No, it is _not_ "cool"! Do you have any idea what it is like to have no mother to look up to, no father to joke around with?'  
'N-no...' Cartman stuttered. He was now terrified. He had witnessed her bark, and his bets were her bite was ferocious.  
But Rosebud just marched on, throwing back a comment over her shoulder.  
'Drop dead.'


	12. Beepbeep Beepbeep

_**Boo yah! Spike's in the house!**_  
_**Okay, THAT sounded big headed. I don't blame you if you want to come out of this story.**_  
_**By the way, I have a little message for a certain depravated jerk who thinks its funny to put down other people's writing.**_  
_**playboyXXX: SHUT THE HELL UP, MATE. Yeah, that's right. I'm putting this ON the chapter instead of in PMs. If you don't like the story, WHY THE HELL DID YOU CLICK ON IT? Huh?! Not so smart now, are you?**_  
_**Whew. I'm sorry you guys had to witness that. Now, I want to say a HUGE thank you to everyone who reviewed this fanfic! That includes (from what I have seen so far):**_

_**The Fabulous MeridiaParcumArcanity**_  
_**The Dynamic hi hi 1234**_  
_**The Stunning jpmm0507**_  
_**The Supercalafrajalisticexpealidocious Smarvin**_  
_**The Unknown but Super Cool Mary Sue Hater**_  
_**The Freakin' Awesome Guy Who Hasn't Reviewed Since Chapter 7 But I Haven't Forgotten timeroulettego**_

_**And, no, playboyXXX, I DIDN'T forget you. **_  
_**And now, I shall write!**_  
_**By the way, I am listening to Hatsune Miku's "World is Mine". I'm an anime freak, and all.**_

* * *

Rosebud wiped the tears from her pretty face and sat up. Cartman had not yet come to apologise. Knowing him, he probably never would.  
She pulled her fringe out of her eyes, and sat down at her desk. Pulling the cordless phone towards her, she dialled the very-familiar number under speed-dial.  
Kyle picked up after 4 rings.

'Yeah?' he asked.  
'H-h-hi, Kyle. What's up?'  
Kyle heard her gasping for air. His guess was that she was crying.  
'Rosebud? What's wrong?'  
'Wrong?' cried Rosebud. 'Wrong? Why would anything be wrong? Hahahaha!' She laughed manically. Kyle held the phone away from his ear and bit his lip. When he was quite sure she was done, he spoke again.  
'Listen, I was going to ask you at school, but then the whole thing burned down. So, uh...'  
'Yes?' Rosebud asked, wiping the tears away.  
'Uh, well, two things, actually... do- do you know if Cartman had anything to do with Lisa's accident?'  
'How should I know? Cartman only seems to talk to me lately to insult me. And why would you think that he would have something to do with it?'  
'He was acting weird outside Lisa's hospital ward. Wouldn't go in.'  
'I see...'  
'And when we came out, you know, to pay our respects, he was muttering to himself.'  
'Oh. Well, me and him aren't really on speaking terms right now. Maybe you could ask him?'  
'Yeah, like he'd tell me. The "filthy Jew". Oh god, now I sound like him...'  
'You aren't a patch on him, Kyle. Only the Devil would be jealous of him.'  
'You're right. Thanks, Rosebud.'  
'So, uh... what was the other thing you were going to ask me?'  
Kyle was silent for a moment. Then, he breathed in.  
'I... I mean, Kenny bought the new Chucky movie, and I was going to ask, seeing as the school is closed, if you wanted to come over and watch it?'  
'Kenny? Bought it?'  
'Well, no, not strictly speaking.'  
'Well, I have nothing else to do, so why not?'  
'Okay. Come round about 12-ish, yeah?'  
'Sure. And, thanks Kyle.'  
'No problem!'  
'Okay, so, uh... bye!'  
'Bye!'  
Rosebud hung up the phone and, if anyone else would have been in the room at that time, they would have sworn to themself that she blew a kiss in the phone's direction.

_At the hospital..._

'Okay, Mr Marsh. You can see her now...'  
Stan got up from his chair and walked slowly towards Lisa's room. The nurse pushed open the door and motioned him towards the bed.  
'Lisa... your friend is here. He came to see you especially.'  
Stan looked at the nurse and she nodded, indicating it was okay for him to approach her. He pulled one of the plastic chairs towards the edge of the bed and sat down.  
'Let me know if you need anything. I'll be just outside.'  
'Okay. Thank you.'  
The nurse smiled and tucked a lock of wavy blonde hair behind her ears. And then she went out of the room.  
It was just Stan and Lisa now.  
'Hi, Lisa.' whispered Stan. 'How are you? Stupid question, really...'  
The monitor kept going "Beepbeep. Beepbeep. Beepbeep."  
'Mrs Garrison taught us about the Holocaust today. I'm sure you'd have taught her a thing or two, she was useless.'  
_Beepbeep. Beepbeep. Beepbeep_.  
'Cartman kept on at Kyle about it. Eventually Jimmy knocked him over the head with one of his crutches. It was funny.'  
_Beepbeep. Beepbeep. Beepbeep_.  
'I didn't laugh. Cartman's a real *sshole.' He paused. 'Your brother sends his love. So does your mom, and your dad. They say... they hope you get better real soon. And I heard your Grampa's in town. It would be a nice surprise, for him to come and see you...' He cut off, mentally kicking himself for that last comment. He felt tears building up in his eyes. Lisa couldn't die. She was too young, it was too early. She needed to die old, surrounded by her awards for environmental-saving and book-writing!  
Stan held Lisa's hand and wept silently, while the warm, salty tears dropped on to her soft skin.  
Suddenly, he felt Lisa's hand move. Not by much, but he could have sworn he felt her squeeze his own tear-sodden hand. He looked up, frozen to the spot.  
He shook he head and got up, bolting for the door. 'Nurse! Nurse!' he cried.  
'Mr Marsh, I must ask you to quiet down! What's the matter?'  
'Its Lisa! She-she squeezed my hand! I swear she did!'  
The nurse went into Lisa's room and pulled out a stethoscope. She placed it on Lisa's head, changing the place of it a few times. She studied Lisa's hands, and the heart monitor.  
'I'm afraid I can see no change in Lisa's current state. It must have been a sudden reaction to the medication being pumped into her blood.'  
'No... it can't have been. She-she knew I was here...'  
'Mr Marsh, we can't guarantee Lisa will...pull through. Maybe it would be better off if you... prepared yourself for the worse...'  
'Are you telling me I should just brush it off like a fly on my shoulder? I am never going to give up on Lisa, _ever_.'  
'Very well.'  
Once again, the nurse left the room, and Stan cried harder than ever.

_With Cartman..._

_'The police are delving into the mysterious disappearance of a young boy's underpants. It seems that the target of the theft, 9 year-old Tweek Tweak, has some kind of mental disorder that makes him think that "Underpants Gnomes" have taken them. More at noon, with top reporter Ivana Tinkle_."

Cartman rocked back and forth, his legs tucked up, his face contort with fear. What will become of him now? He watched the TV blankly, and didn't even react when Terrance and Phillip came on.  
He was dead inside.  
The phone rang suddenly. He jumped, but did not answer it.  
Ring ring ring. Ring ring ring.  
Finally, he could not stand it.  
And when he picked up, he heard a shaky voice at the other end.  
'I know you did it.'

* * *

_Kyle's house..._

_'As a doll, I'm infamous!* I'm one of the most notorious slashers in history, and I don't want to give that up! I am Chucky, the killer doll, and I dig it!_'

'So true,' said Kenny. It was just him, Kyle and Rosebud here. Kyle's hair was free of his Ushanka and it bounced freely around his head **. He wasn't wearing his coat, as it was very warm in his room. Rosebud had made a special effort, her hair washed, cherry t-shirt on and black combat trousers ironed. She had even put a rose in her hair, the black one Kenny had returned to her after the school burnt down, and had woken up... not dead.  
Stan was at the hospital. Cartman wasn't interacting with anyone.  
It was okay.

* * *

With Stan...

He stayed till gone 9, when the nurse told him he needed to go soon, as the hospital lights would be shut off.  
He didn't worry.  
He told her all sorts of things he knew she would have like to hear, had she been awake. He told her about school and annual events and award ceremonies, who had won on many of the TV knowledge shows she liked, and many other things.  
'C'mon, Lisa. You have to wake up. You can't die! I won't let you die!'  
Beepbeep. Beepbeep. Beepbeep..  
'You've got too much of your life ahead of you!'  
Beeeepbeeep. Beeepbeeep.  
'You can't die! Because-because-'  
Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.  
Stan looked at the monitor.  
It consisted of one straight green line.

* * *

_**Too solemn to write.**_  
_*** Yes, I changed it. Look up "Chucky's Greatest Quotes of All Time" and it should come up with the original. I just didn't want my mum or dad to walk in and see me writing swear words, even censored ones.**_  
_**** For some strange reason, I really like Kyle's hair...**_  
_**Until next time! :)**_


	13. Black and Blue

_**Welcome again!**_  
_**Well, if you have stuck this far throughout the story, congratulations! I'm glad you have this much faith in Lisa and Stan. And judging by the many reviews I got, many of you want to know the question I have been asking myself since the last full-stop last chapter dawned on me.**_  
_**Will Lisa live or die?**_  
_**Alas, I canney tell ye.**_  
_**...**_  
_**Anyway, this disclaimer/ author's note will be very short, as I want to get on with the chapter.**_  
_**DISCLAIMER; I don't own South Park, Simpsons or Rosebud. I own only the plot and these spiked braclets I am wearing, hence the alias "Spike Wristed Drummer Girl".**_  
_**Now, ah must write!**_

* * *

And so, instead of celebrating with a party for Lisa's five certificates in all subjects, there was to be a funeral.

Pretty much everyone came to pay poor little Lisa their respects. The funeral parlour ladies had made her look especcially beautiful, laying her on a polyester pillow, as Marge knew she would object to anything eco-unfriendly. They put her in her church outfit, which was only fitting, as the funeral was to take place in a church.  
How convenient.  
Neither Marge, Bart nor Homer had the courage to see her. They let the parlour ladies go about their business. Marge had invited every one of Bart and Lisa's classmates, and every one of them came.  
Even Cartman.

Bart swung his legs forlornly. Never again would he see eye to eye with his mother, father or anyone else.

Marge twiddled her thumbs. Never again would she feel warm with Lisa's cute smile, or hear the principal of South Park Elementary say how good Lisa was at every single subject.

Homer rubbed the back of his head limply. Never again would he hear Lisa say, "No Dad. You can't fry your eggs on the lightbulbs."

Finally, a parlour lady poked her head out of the door. 'She's ready, madam, sir.'

'Thank you,' said Marge. 'Bart, why don't you go and talk to Stan?' She motioned to the back of the church, where the Marshes were just entering. Bart nodded and walked towards Stan. He looked even worse than when Kyle and his friends had come to try and cheer him up. He wasn't wearing his hat, and he looked as white as a sheet. His eyes were black and round as pits. He reminded Bart of a character from Lisa's favourite movie, "_Tim Burton's Corpse Bride_".  
He didn't smile when he saw Bart coming towards him. He just bowed his head and stared at the floor. 'Hey.' he said.  
'Hi.'  
'I suppose you're here to try to reassure me.'  
'Kinda.'  
'Thought so.'  
Stan looked to the front of the church. They were...  
_Organising the coffin_.  
'I- I'm sorry, but I can't do this.' he said before running out of the church. He didn't hear Bart call after him.  
Bart started running after him, but as he ran down the steps, he bumped into the Goth Kids.  
'Hey, watch where you're going.' said Henrietta.  
'Ya, you could have broken our necks. At least then all the sorrow and despair you're bottling up like milk would be let out at our death beds.' said Curly Goth.  
'Sorry. Have you seen Stan?' asked Bart.  
'You mean the Conformist King? He went that way.' said Red Goth.  
'Thanks.'  
'You look like a tortured soul. Want to join our gang?'  
'No. And please put on your church clothes. This is a funeral, not a...' he looked at the black every one of them were wearing. '...Funeral...'  
Bart ran past the gang and ran in the direction Stan had gone. Eventually he found him weeping on a park bench. One of his trouser legs were stained with a red substance. There was also a girl with him. Her snowy white hair fell about her shoulders like a wilted halo. When she noticed him, she smiled and walked away.  
Bart took her place on the bench. Stan looked up.  
'Stan, you can't beat yourself up about this. It wasn't your fault.'  
'Yes it w-was!' said Stan. 'I-if I h-hadn't confessed I loved s-someone else, s-she wouldn't h-have j-j-jumped!'  
'What?'  
'What?'  
'No, I mean, what did you say?'  
'That s-she jumped. Off your t-treehouse.'  
'No... no, she didn't.'  
'Yes she d-did! Stop it!'  
'No, Stan, she mustn't have done. Because...' Bart told Stan about Cartman, Wendy, Bebe and the others about a few days ago. When he had finished, Stan no longer had the pallid, dead expression he'd been wearing for some time. He stood up, his fists clenched, and his face had no sign of life, but it looked strong.  
'I. Am. Going. To. _Murder_. Him.'  
'Stan! NO!'  
But Stan had already started walking.

* * *

'We are gathered here today to witness the passing of Lisa Marie Simpson...' said the minister.  
'Randy, where's Stan?' asked Sharon.  
Just then, the doors swung open, revealing a furious looking Stan. He charged along the path along the rows of seats, right to where Cartman was sitting, biting his nails. Stan grabbed him by his shirt and lifted him up, throwing him to the ground.  
'You! YOU!' he shrieked.  
'W-what?!'  
'YOU DID IT! YOU SON OF A B*TCH!'  
'Stan, w-what are you talking about?' asked Rosebud, who was sitting beside Cartman and was now as pale as a ghost.  
'HE KILLED HER!' screamed Stan. He pulled Cartman up by his hair and punched him till his knuckles bled. Then he threw him on to a row of seats, where Cartman banged his head.  
'You deserve to die for what you did! I'll kill you!' he roared.  
'Stan! Please! That's enough!' shouted Sharon, grabbing hold of her son by his waist and pulling him away from a now black-and-blue Cartman. Cartman got up shakily, and Rosebud rushed to help him.  
'Eric, is it true?' she whispered.  
Cartman just leaned against her. Then, so quietly surely nobody but Rosebud would hear him, he whispered back, 'Yes.'  
The whole church gasped. Rosebud stepped away from Cartman, letting him fall to the ground. Stan wrenched himself free of his mother's vice grip, and charged towards him. Then Kenny, Kyle, Bart and Token all got up and did the same, until Cartman was surrounded by a circle of furious boys.  
'Token, do it.' said Kyle. Token kicked Cartman in the head, followed by everyone in the circle giving him a mighty beating, before all their mothers came and pulled them away. Stan again pulled away from his mother, and instead turned his attention to Wendy, who was trying to haul Cartman back on his feet.  
'And you. You helped him, didn't you?'  
'N-no...'  
'YES YOU GODDAMN DID! YOU B*TCH!' He raised his arm, intent on hitting her, but a force pulled said raised arm down, and a sweet Spanish-ish accent drifted into his head.  
'Please, Stan. Let me.'  
And so Rosebud slapped Wendy four times across the face, before pulling her up and kicking her in the crotch.  
And Butters, who along with everyone else was watching the whole thing, snapped his fingers and said, 'I knew it! Girls DO keep theirs on the inside!'

Stan walked to the front of the church and kissed the oak of the coffin. 'I'm sorry you had to see that, Lisa. I know I should've said this a long time ago, but...'  
He felt a hand on his shoulder, and Kyle's voice whispered, 'He loves you.'


	14. FaceTime for Angels

Well.  
This is it.  
The very last chapter.  
Its take about 6 months to complete. December 12th I started the first chapter.  
And now its the last.  
I want to thank every single person who viewed this story, and gave it a chance. I want to especcially thank all those who reviewed. You're all absolute angels.  
Now, after this I will be continuing with Scene- Girls. So those of you who are looking forward to the next chapter of that little toddler fic, (which know some of you are) I am going to have to agree with you. :)  
And in this chapter, not to be mean, but I would like to make as many people cry-or shed at least a single tear- as possible. And I may have mentioned in a chapter or two back that I thought Lisa's eyes were brown. But, seeing the review that corrected me, I realized confusion would kinda ruin the suspense a little. So, somewhere in this chapter, I have corrected the mistake :)  
Okay. So, the disclaimer.  
Disclaimer; I do not own South Park, Simpsons, Rosebud or any of the lyrics that may appear in this chapter.  
Thank you, everybody.  
Lisa, Rest in Peace.

For now.

'Eric Cartman, you are hereby arrested for the murder of Lisa Simpson. You do not have to say anything. But it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence.'  
It was fair to say that Cartman did not come quietly.  
In actual fact, he screamed the place down.

Mrs Cartman and Rosebud looked on, still obviously shocked. Rosebud looked at Cartman with the utmost disgust. He tried to reach her, screaming manically, 'Rosebud! You believe me, don't you? Don't you?'  
'I thought...' began Rosebud, fighting the tears. 'I thought I did.' She stood up straight and narrowed her eyes. 'But now I see the little sh*t you really are, and I wouldn't pay your freedom if I was whipped to the bone. You deserve what is happening to you. You sick, twisted son of a b*tch.'  
Cartman screamed in fury and tried to beat the two guards restraining him. They tightened their grip, and led him out the door.  
As he was led to the police van, a crowd of people had gathered outside his house. They booed and hissed, some spat in his face and others threw rocks. Token, Jimmy, Timmy and Kenny had to be held back by Chef to stop them from grinding him into the pavement.  
He was literally thrown into the police car. The policemen struggled to lift him, not just because he was fat, but because he was doing his best to make the weediest policeman look like a real version on Lord Voldemort.

And so, that was how Cartman, Wendy, Bebe, Red and Rebecca were all sent to justice.  
As it were.

Later that day...

Stan held his wrist, the wrist that was before a nice fleshy pink, but now was dotted with splodges of alarming crimson red.  
He held the silver blade up again.  
And brought it down.  
The resemblance the squish of the knife made on his wrist made to Cartman taking a dump was uncanny.  
And he carried on until his entire arm looked like he had been part of the Texas Chainsaw Massacre.

Finally, he gave up and crumpled on the floor, a bloody mass. He threw the knife across the room, where it hit a glass football trophy. He looked up, finally realizing what he could do.  
He got up and marched over to the shattered trophy, where a few others stood. Along with his old Boy Scout equipment. Small hammers, nails, blunt knives...  
And a good strong rope.  
He flung open his wardrobe, looking for the small steps he used as a kid to get up to his bed.  
He looked for the hook where he used to suspend his model aeroplanes from.  
He fastened the rope as strong as it would go, and tied the knot at the bottom of the rope, a hole big enough to fit his small neck in.  
He looked to the ceiling, tugged the rope to make sure it was stable, and smiled at the ceiling. 'I guess I'll see you soon, Lisa.' he whispered.  
He stepped up the small step, took a deep breath, and fit his head through the deadly noose.  
Letting go of the steps, he seemed to be floating. He smiled to himself, knowing that soon, he'd be seeing his dear Lisa.  
He was floating.  
Letting go of all emotion.  
Stepping his steps to heaven.  
No one but her.  
Her.  
Stan was floating.  
Stan was...  
Stan...  
'Stan...'  
'Stan!'  
'STAN!'  
He felt himself being thrown to the ground.  
Was this heaven?  
No.  
How does he know?  
Is his mother and father dead?  
No.  
But he can see them.  
He's...  
He's coming...  
He's coming round.  
He's coming round!  
'He's coming round!'  
'HE'S COMING ROUND!'  
He opened his eyes, revealing his father's strained, pale face.  
Was he God?  
No, you idiot. He's your dad.  
My dad? What's my dad doing in heaven?  
He's not IN heaven, Stan. He's on Earth. And so are you.  
I am?  
Yes. Now go back to your life.  
Okay.  
I love you, Stan.  
I love you too, Lisa.

* * *

The next day, the school was ready and waiting.

But nobody was in the mood to go.

Not even Butters.

The word that Stan had tried to commit suicide travelled tremendously around the school. Nobody mentioned anything to do with gore, death, hospitals or scary movies.  
Because Stan felt like he was in a scary movie.  
He didn't, of course, go back to school for a few days, until his parents felt like he was completely stable. He even had to have a helper to follow him around and make sure he didn't try to do himself in in the urinals or slam a desk lid on his head. When he finally was ready for school, Sharon insisted on walking him to school.  
'Mom, that's what Pablo is here for,' objected Stan, gesturing to the beefy looking guy standing next to him.  
'Stan, you know I only want what is best for you, yes?'  
'Yes, Mom.'  
'Good. Now, come on, you're going to be late.'  
'I really don't care.'  
'Yes, well, I do. Hurry and get your lunch. I made your favourite, tuna and sweetcorn.'  
'I hate tuna now. And you know I'm vegetarian.'  
'Yes, yes, I know. But I take one look at you and we might as well scrape the leaves in the garden with you, you're as skinny as a rake.'  
Stan shrugged.  
'Come on.'

They reached the school, and Stan recieved a huge slobbery kiss and tremendous hug from Sharon.  
'Be careful.' she whispered.  
'Whatever.' he said, wiping a splodge of salliva from his cheek. Sharon watched as Stan disappeared through the large doors, and rubbed the back of her neck in worry.

They were burning holes in him as he walked to his locker, so deep he could feel them scorching his skin. Whispers, exaggerated rumours, and a few giggles. He tried his best to ignore them, but they still stood by him, like a perverted dog. A perverted dog named Sparky. And he shook his head, trying to shake out the worries, but they stayed. He felt a little dizzy, the room was swaying... he was going to crack any minute-  
'Stan...'  
He spun round. There stood Kyle and Rosebud. Both looked as equally pale as himself.  
'How are you, dude?' asked Kyle.  
'How do you think?' he snapped. Kyle bowed his head.  
'I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped.' he said. He turned to Rosebud. 'Hey, Rosarita. What's up?'  
'Oh, you know, not much.' she said. She rubbed her left arm.  
The bell rang for first period, and the threesome walked to class together. They took their respective seats, and started talking hastily about the incident of the school being burned down.  
'I reckon it was one of those menaces in North Park.' said Pip, who was just passing. 'Oh, hello Stan, old chap. Terrible busiess with Lisa. I must give my most humble-'  
'Shut up Pip. No offence, or anything, but I'd prefer you didn't talk about it.' said Stan.  
'Yes, yes, of course. Well, class awaits, yes?'  
'Yeah, yeah...'  
It was a relief to Stan when Mrs Garrison, laden with her box of books as usual, told everyone to sit down.  
'And I'm sure Stan would like his privacy, thank you.' she said, gesturing to a black-haired boy at the back of the class, who was looking at Stan with most interest, and making notes. When he saw Mrs Garrison look at him, he merely nodded.  
'Now, I appreciate there have been a few tragedies lately. And we will never forget Lisa, but would be more than happy to forget a certain member of our class, who's been a little *sshole since he joined the school. But I must press that we should try and move on-,' he gave a momentary glance at Stan, ' -With matters, and learn as much as possible.'  
Everyone murmured their agreement, and took out their textbooks, as it seemed Stan, Rosebud and Kyle were not the only ones desperate to forget the tragedy to befall a little angel.

* * *

When school ended, Stan bid his farewells to Kyle, giving him a hug, and Rosebud the same. But he did not go home straight away.  
Instead he walked to the public-yet-secret place he and Lisa loved before the incident.  
The bench in the park.

He kicked the stones on the gravel path, as the sun began to set. It glowed beautiful crimson, orange, buttercup yellow and finally the everlasting blue of Lisa's eyes. He was sure those eyes would never close, apart from being asleep.  
But this was the deepest sleep anyone would take.  
He found the bench. He sat down, and watched the sunset. It distracted his eyes from sliding to the words in the wood, carved there for evermore.

_Change the world with a :)_

He smiled slightly to himself, and turned back to the sun.  
But then, the voice came.  
'Stan...'  
He stood up abruptly, looking around so quickly he cricked his neck. Wincing in pain, he looked around slowly.  
And saw her.  
She was dressed in a flowing white dress, looking stunning. Her hair was as bouncy and starfish-shaped as ever, but the most beautiful thing about her, was her smile.  
'Lisa...' he whispered. He tried running to her, but she stepped back.  
'No, Stan. You mustn't. It's not your time yet.'  
'It wasn't yours either.'  
'I know.'  
'How... how are you?'  
Lisa just smirked. 'Never better.'  
'Didn't it hurt?'  
'I didn't feel it. I just... I just remember falling, and a bit of red, and then someone calling my name...'  
'That was Bart.'  
'It was?'  
'Yeah.'  
Lisa scratched her ear. Then, something caught her attention.  
'Stan... what the hell have you done to your wrist?'  
Stan looked down. Indeed, the pale skin of his raw red wrist was peeking out of his coat. He attempted to hide it from her.  
'I thought you didn't want to be one of those Goth kids?' she asked.  
'I don't. I was just depressed, okay?'  
'You were more than that Stan. What's this I heard about you trying to commit suicide?'  
He bowed his head. Lisa just sniffed, and began to cry.  
'You were that desperate to see me again?' she whispered.  
'Yes.'  
'You stupid, ignorant, adorable twit.' she said.  
'Thank you.'  
'Stan,' said Lisa. 'I just want you to know, it wasn't your fault.'  
'i know.'  
'I know you know, so why were you torturing yourself into believing it was?'  
Stan shrugged. Lisa fiddled, and in the end, cried 'Oh, screw the rules!' and ran to him, hugging him as tightly as her ghostly, see-through hands would go. Stan felt nothing outside, but inside, his heart was doing somersaults.  
'I only had a little while. They let me use my one Christ Connection to contact you.'  
'Christ Connection?'  
'Its like Facetime for ghosts. Except we're holograms. I'm not really here, I'm just a projection from heaven.'  
'So, you're an angel now?'  
'Not quite. I have a few courses before I become a fully-trained angel.'  
'Courses for angels?'  
'Yes.' said Lisa. 'Its complicated. Stan,' she stood back. 'I can feel myself disconnecting. But I just want you to know, I really love you.'  
'I love you too.'  
Lisa kissed him on the cheek, before slowly, but surely, beginning to fade from Stan's field of view. He cried out one more time, to be sure of one thing. 'Lisa! Wait!'  
'What is it?' she asked, her voice like static.  
'When will I see you again?'  
She just smiled mysteriously. 'Soon, but I hope, not before your time is nigh.'  
And with that, she began to float up to the now maroon sky. And Stan turned away, feeling way happier than he had in all of his life.

_He said, "Who truly belongs here?"_  
_Not I she said, I'll lie here with you_  
_He knows no one shines forever_  
_They change with the weather_

_He said, "I've now stayed too long here"_  
_Good bye she said, I'll wait here for you_  
_He knows the winds carry sorrow_  
_As they leave she'll follow_  
_They leave tomorrow_

_Fragments of joy torn apart_  
_A freshly drained heart that beats_  
_Disguise themselves through him_  
_He'll say that it's nothing new_  
_And swear this is true,_  
_for you, I'll swallow the ocean_

_I'll swallow the ocean_

_He said, "Who truly belongs here?"_  
_Not I she said, I'll lie here to you_  
_I know the sorrow is sacred_  
_And I'll never break you_  
_I'll softly save you_

_Fragments of joy torn apart_  
_A freshly drained heart that beats_  
_Disguise themselves through him_  
_He'll say that it's nothing new_  
_And swear this is true,_  
_for you, I'll swallow the ocean_

_I'll swallow the ocean_

* * *

_**FINISHIO!**_  
_**THANK YOU SO MUCH EVERYONE WHO REVIEWED! YOU'RE ALL ANGELS!**_  
_**The song was recommended by MeridiaParcumArcanity, a dear FF friend of mine. I dedicate everything to all of you!**_


	15. Far from Over

Greetings.

As you know, it's been a month since we felt the sharp blade of Stan's knife against our own wrists, and saw Lisa float up towards heaven. I got loads of beautiful people writing to me and saying such beautiful things in their reviews. As I pressed "Submit Document", however, I felt there was more to this story. So, here goes nuttin'.

A sequel to SFE will be coming out as soon as I've finished "Kill and Let Die". I just felt there was more to what I wrote. There will be some elements of violence, gore, romance (ick), and humor (if I can muster it). It may be better or worse than SFE, depending on my mood in the chapters. I am going through a rough patch at school, so hopefully writing will give me a chance to take my mind off all these douches up in here.

Not you guys. You're my friends. ;)

Okay. Well, uh... bye!


End file.
